


Memento Mori

by WhisperingWolf



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Deep web of corruption and conspiracy, F/M, Kidnapping, Mentions of Rape, crimes against children
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-27
Updated: 2018-06-27
Packaged: 2018-07-27 03:20:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 31
Words: 278,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7601410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhisperingWolf/pseuds/WhisperingWolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is only one thing that can make an immortal vulnerable, only one thing that can hurt an angel aside from another angel - their mate. It was only a rumor, a baseless myth, something Amenadiel had never believed in, until it happened to Lucifer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

AN: Lucifer and all recognizable characters belong to Jerry Bruckheimer and FOX television. Set post 'Take Me Back to Hell'. (Written prior to the start of season 2.)

 

Summary: There is only one thing that can make an immortal vulnerable, only one thing that can hurt an angel aside from another angel - their mate. It was only a rumor, a baseless myth, something Amenadiel had never believed in, until it happened to Lucifer. 

 

**Memento Mori**

Prologue

  


by WhisperingWolf

 

 

Mazikeen looked down on Amenadiel as he slept. She didn't understand why she had given Lucifer's feather to him, or why it had caused such an enraged panic inside of her to see him so badly injured. She was a demon. Why did she care? But it wasn't just him, and she knew that. It was Trixie, as well. And now, her mother had been added to that list. None of it made any sense to her. She hadn't cared about anyone, or anything since the beginning of time, but now she did and as much as it scared her, it somehow thrilled her, too. 

She certainly didn't find the same amusement in it that Lucifer did, but there was a certain emotional buzz that she would get when she saw any of them now, especially Trixie. She shook her head as she paced and growled low at herself. The only thing this _caring_ would do was make her as vulnerable as it had Lucifer. She had no desire to find out if she could get injured as easily as a mortal could. Closing her eyes as she took in a deep breath, she turned back to look at Amenadiel. 

"I'll be back, I'll just be more _me_ ," she whispered to the sleeping angel as she plucked a feather from his wing. 

Tucking the feather into her pocket, she grabbed the keys for her motorcycle and walked quickly toward the elevator. She didn't have any time to spare. If she waited, if she hesitated even for a moment, she would return to Amenadiel's side and watch him until he woke. She couldn't do that, she couldn't _be_ that. 

It didn't take her long to get to the beach, and even less time to travel across the deserted sand. The moon shone down on her as she stood at the water's edge and pressed the feather between her palms as though in prayer. Closing her eyes as she took in a deep steadying breath, Mazikeen spoke the incantation and felt the warmth as the fires of Hell surrounded her, swallowing her whole. 

She breathed in deeply as the scents of brimstone and ash surrounded her. There were souls crying out, the lost and forgotten who had found their way to Hell after she and Lucifer had left. Their Hells were on autopilot, a torment they created for themselves. Everything they loved had been taken away, or in some manner used against them. Her boots clicked as she stepped through the halls, a smile crossing her face at the simple pleasure of hearing so many evil souls being tortured. 

One voice captured her attention, and she turned as her demon side showed. Growling low as she came to stand in front of the cell, Mazikeen opened the door and stepped inside. The man was demanding to be released, yelling that he didn't belong down here, and when Mazikeen saw him, the rage she felt burst forth in an almighty roar. Claws that she only had in Hell extended from where her nails normally were, and she snarled as she reached out.

Malcolm Graham screamed as Mazikeen cut into him, digging her claws into his shoulders and dragging them down his arms. His skin opened beneath her claws as easily as butter, and she purred in the pleasure of the long overdue retribution as she tore him to pieces. Skin was peeled off in some places, in others the cuts made by her claws extended down to his bone. She snarled and purred as she tore at him until he breathed his last. Oh, but the fun had only just begun, she thought. In no time at all, he would be alive again and unharmed as his soul awaited more torture.

She stepped from his cage and locked the door as she took in a deep breath. She was calmer now than she had been in a long time, and she closed her eyes as she leaned back against the door. A smile twisted her lips as she felt the ash fall on her skin. That was one thing she did miss from the earthly plane. Here in Hell, as soon as she exited a cell, any blood or bodily fluids that had gotten on her during the torture would be erased. In the mortal realm, the blood would stay on her skin, congealing and flaking until she cleaned herself of the mess. It had made her practice more finesse, but she had to admit an almost fondness for the feel of the blood long after the work was done. 

Her brow furrowed as she pushed away from Malcolm's cell and stepped away from the door. There was a voice that didn't belong, a presence that shouldn't be in Hell. She could smell it - another angel. It was the way warm cream blended with burnt sugar, and just a hint of vanilla. Until going to the earthly plane, she had believed this scent to belong to angels alone. Who would have guessed that celestial beings smelled like Crème Brule?

"Get out of here!" A harsh whisper sounded from her left, and her eyes widened to see Lilith crouching in the space between the cells. "Mazikeen, go!" she snapped at her. 

"What's going on?" Mazikeen demanded as she moved to step past Lilith, only to have the demon pull her forcibly into the hiding place.

"He's crazed!" Lilith whispered harshly. "Thousands of demons have already been killed," she snapped.

"By who?" Mazikeen growled, preparing to fight whatever threat had befallen her kin.

"Me," a dark male voice sounded from behind her, and she stilled as she heard Lilith laugh.

 

 

**~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~**

 

 

There was a rage in Lucifer that he hadn't seen in a long time. A fire burned bright behind his brother's eyes, and as much as he knew they both feared the prospect of their mother being freed from Hell, there was sense of betrayal Amenadiel felt from Lucifer that he wasn't quite sure what to do with. It wasn't directed at him, that much he did know. He stood from his seat on the couch in the penthouse and followed Lucifer to the elevator. It didn't take them long to reach the bar, and even less time for his brother to find the bottle of scotch he favored.

Normally one to decline, Amenadiel gratefully accepted the glass of spirits his brother offered him. The events of the last thirty hours had more than warranted the alcohol. He narrowed his eyes as he watched Lucifer pace, and sighed silently to himself when he realized his brother wouldn't be the first one to speak. It took him a moment to realize why Lucifer was so upset, his eyes widening as he spoke his thought aloud.

"You think she helped Mom escape, don't you?" Amenadiel asked, and watched Lucifer's eyes glow red.

"Well, that doesn't sound like the kind of evil duplicitous thing a demon would do, now does it?" Lucifer asked, humor covering his rage.

"But why would she do that?" Amenadiel asked, trying to understand what could make Mazikeen do something so reckless.

"Because she wants to go back to Hell.," Lucifer offered with a shake of his head, and downed the scotch in his glass. "Because she knows that Chloe is the one thing that makes me vulnerable?" 

Lucifer opened his mouth to say more, to offer his belief that the reason itself didn't matter considering what the outcome inevitably would be, but a crash from outside the club's door drew his attention. His lips twisted in a sardonic smile, disbelieving humor mixing with rage, as he believed the noise to be caused by the humans picketing his club. Ever since the incident with the preacher, his front door had been crowded by religious zealots. They'd wanted him to repent, to change his name, to do any number of things that he had no intention of doing.

The club had been closed for the past day and half due to the investigation, the murder, not to mention the riots the same "good Christians" had started with the few patrons who had shown up to offer him their support. He shook his head as he reached for the bottle of scotch, only to turn his attention sharply to the door when the crash sounded again. He watched the door open in disbelief as someone stumbled inside. 

"Bloody Hell," Lucifer cursed as he watched the woman collapse to the floor. 

She was too far away for him to see who it was, but he watched her struggle to her feet as he and his brother moved toward her. He cursed again when he recognized the familiar form, his brother mirroring his response as they moved closer to Mazikeen. She lashed out, hissing at them when they got close, and Lucifer pulled back at the sight of her face. 

"Maze," Amenadiel whispered in horror from behind him. 

The sound of his voice startled her, and Lucifer watched as the demon lashed out again, trying to strike at them. Her movements were clumsy, exaggerated, and aimless. He cursed as he realized that she couldn't see them and called to Mazikeen, trying to get her to recognize his voice. Her face was burnt, her skin torn and bruised, but it was the smell upon her that held his attention the most. Brimstone and burnt cream, ash and rotten meat. She had been to Hell, yes, but she had been attacked by both an angel and a demon. 

"Maze!" he snapped at her again, only to watch her hair lift as she spun around. "Bloody Hell," he snarled, and surged forward to wrap his arms around her from behind.

She couldn't see them, her eyes had been burned from their sockets, and she couldn't hear them, the claw marks that shredded her ears made her deafness undeniable. He closed his eyes as he held the struggling demon and pushed his energy into her, healing her injuries as she struggled in his hold. He called to her again, his hold relaxing as she turned and collapsed against him. Lucifer held her, his arms loose around her, her face buried against his chest. If ever there was a time when he thought the demon might cry, now would be it, but she didn't shed a single tear. She simply held onto him as she gathered her bearings, and he let her as he waited to learn what happened.

"Michael," Mazikeen said with difficulty. "Michael's working with Lilith," she panted, fear and exhaustion in her tone. "They freed your mother. Trixie," she whispered the child's name as she lost consciousness. 

"Michael?" Amenadiel repeated with disbelief, as Lucifer lifted Mazikeen into his arms. "That's impossible," he denied.

"Is it?" Lucifer asked with a low growl. "There was never any war," he told his brother. "That whole reason Dad cast me out, was nothing but a lie. I was never plotting, or planning anything. All I did was ask Him a question. It was Michael who spread the lies. And it was Michael who turned the others against me."

"What question?" Amenadiel asked, his brow furrowed at his brother's revelation.

"I asked dear old Dad why he gave the humans free will, but left us bound. _Aren't we your children, too?_ " he repeated the question he had asked his father so long ago. "Not long after, I found myself being cast out, and other angels telling _me_ they were ready to fight by my side in the war. I didn't even know there was a war."

"Wait, what?" Amenadiel stood dumbly silent inside of the elevator as Lucifer walked into the penthouse. "Brother?" he called after Lucifer as he gave chase. "The rebellion, the call to choose sides," Amenadiel said as he shook his head, disbelief heavy in his voice and face. "That wasn't you?"

"No," Lucifer said, grinding his teeth as he laid Mazikeen down on the couch. "I never wanted a war. I never wanted anyone to suffer. All I wanted was the truth. And the more He _claimed_ his creation of the humans to be perfect, the more I wanted to know why he had given me the gift of temptation and the ability to pull out a person's deepest darkest desires if not to use it on the humans." 

He looked back at the mess that had become of his loft and knew that the same people who had cleaned and repaired it the last time would do so again. In twenty four hours it would look as though nothing had ever happened. 

"I didn't force her to take that apple, you know," he told Amenadiel, as he released a harsh sigh. "All I did was ask her if she wanted it. She was the one to pluck it from the tree. She was the one to bite it and eat the fruit." He released a hateful sigh, and shook his head. "I didn't disguise myself as a serpent as your _good book_ proclaims. I didn't lure her to the tree. All of that is nothing but baseless propaganda. The _only_ thing I did, was prove Father wrong."

Rehashing the old stories, revealing the truths that no one had been willing to believe before, had left him raw and bared. He needed to leave. He needed . . . Lucifer closed his eyes as he sighed with amusement at himself. He needed Chloe.

 

 

**~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~**

 

 

"It's over," Chloe said as she closed her eyes, and dropped her head. "Trixie's safe," she reminded herself, as her hands began to shake. "Lucifer's fine. You're fine. It's all over," she said again, as she pulled in a trembling breath.

In seconds, the shaking had spread from her hands to the rest of her body, and she began to fall. She wasn't sure who caught her, but felt herself seized in a strong pair of arms as she fought to pull the air into her lungs that she so desperately needed. She couldn't breathe, and fought harder to pull air into her body as the arms around her changed their hold on her. Her heart was beating too fast, her lungs burning with the desperate effort to breathe and, as spots began to dance in her vision, she felt herself floating through the air.

"Shhh," Lucifer whispered in her ear, as he sat down on her couch, and held Chloe on his lap. "Just breathe, love," he instructed her softly. 

He knew she was hyperventilating, knew he had to calm her breathing before she passed out, but wasn't sure what to do. Too used to being the cause of a person's terror, he wasn't quite sure how to go about calming it. He held her closer as he brought his lips to the shell of her ear and promised her she was safe, promised her his protection. Her trembling increased, the frightened shaking almost violent, and just as her gasping breaths seemed to grow faster, they turned into uncontrolled sobs instead.

Lucifer sighed as he felt her arms move from where they had been folded against his chest, and pressed his lips together in a thin line as she clung to him as though her very sanity depended on it. Maybe it did, he allowed with an arch of his brow. He cupped the back of her head as he leaned back against the couch, and kissed her hair before he tucked her head beneath his chin. The heat of her tears soaked through the silk of his shirt, branding him, as he held her tighter. If Malcolm weren't already dead, he would hunt the little bastard down and kill him for what he had done, and the state Chloe was left in now. She had been so strong throughout everything, and just when he had thought her tough exterior to be impenetrable, he had stepped in through the unlocked door of her house to see her break. 

"I'm here, Chloe," Lucifer promised her when she began calling his name, her voice muffled and broken by her sobs. "I'm right here. I've got you."

He looked up at the sound of footsteps and found Trixie to be staring at him with wide frightened eyes, the dark orbs impossibly large in her small face. 

"Lucifer," her voice trembled as she spoke his name. "What's wrong with-"

"It's alright, moppet," he promised the child as he cast his eyes down to the woman crying in his arms. "Today's all just been a bit much for your mum."

"She said I won't see daddy again for a long time," she told him, her little chin trembling as she caught her bottom lip between her teeth.

"No, my dear," Lucifer said softly. "I'm afraid you won't. Your dad did something . . . " He frowned as he thought of how best to explain what happened to a child. "A long time ago, your dad did something bad, but today he did something brave. But what he did today, couldn't make up for what he did before."

"So he won't-"

"Luci, you didn't - oh," Amenadiel said as he came to a stop, his eyes wide, and looked between the small child to where his brother sat on the couch cradling the distraught detective in his arms.

"Not one word about this," Lucifer ground out to his brother between clenched teeth, his gaze fierce, before he turned to Trixie with a comforting smile. "It's alright, moppet," he assured the young girl. "This lumbering oaf is my brother," he told her, and glanced between her and Amenadiel. "Amenadiel, this is Beatrice, but everyone calls her Trixie. Beatrice, meet Amenadiel."

"Your brother?" Trixie asked as she turned her attention from Lucifer to his brother. "He doesn't look like you," she said as she edged closer to Lucifer, feeling unsure of meeting anyone new after the events of earlier that day.

"We have the same father," Amenadiel told her, watching curiously as the child seemed to be looking to his brother for assurance and protection.

"So . . . You're step brothers?" Trixie asked, trying to understand how they could be related.

"Something like that," Amenadiel told her with a grin of amusement. "Why don't we give your mom and Lucifer some time alone, okay? I'll even tell you a story if you like," he offered, and watched as Trixie again looked to Lucifer.

"It's alright, moppet," Lucifer assured the girl, and nodded his head toward her bedroom. "Why don't you have him read that book you love so much, hm? The one with the sneezing panda," he suggested, and watched her look at her mom before nodding solemnly.

"A sneezing . . . panda?" Amenadiel asked as he looked at Lucifer in confusion. 

"You're sure he's okay?" Trixie whispered to Lucifer, and he nodded.

"Promise," Lucifer replied, and smiled at her. "I would never let anything hurt you, moppet," he pledged to her sincerely, and felt the heat of his brother's stare. 

"Go on, Trixie," Amenadiel instructed with a smile. "I'll be right there," he said, and watched the girl disappear into her room. "Once we get them settled, brother," he said to Lucifer, his gaze as resolute as his voice, "you and I need to talk."

Lucifer nodded once, and watched his brother step into Trixie's room. The smooth baritone of Amenadiel's voice soon sounded again, and Lucifer chuckled as he heard the angel read the children's book aloud. The premise of the story was ridiculous, the lines of the fable made more amusing by the knowledge of who read them, and Lucifer smiled as he bent his head down to rest his lips against Chloe's dark blonde hair. He breathed in deeply of her scent before he gathered her close and stood from the couch.

Carrying her up the stairs and down the hall to her bedroom, Lucifer closed the door quietly with his foot, and stepped over to her bed. Her sobs had long since turned into quiet tears, and though he knew she was still awake to some degree, he also knew that she was moments away from falling asleep. She gasped, her breaths hitching and broken, as she clung to him desperately when he tried to lay her down on the bed.

"Shh," Lucifer soothed her, petting her hair as he sat on the bed with her. "I'll be back in a few moments. Why don't you change into something a bit more comfortable to sleep in." 

He watched as Chloe seemed to pull into herself, her eyes darting to the side, and cupped her face in his hands, drawing her gaze back to his.

"I'm not leaving you," he promised her, his kind gaze serious. "Certainly not in this condition. I will be back."

"Ok," Chloe said softly, her voice barely a whisper, and he kissed her brow before he stood from the bed.

Lucifer looked back at her as he stood in the doorway, and met her gaze with a reassuring smile before he pulled the door closed behind him. He heard his brother's footsteps in the hall and looked up to meet his gaze. Amenadiel nodded his head toward the landing of the stairs, and Lucifer nodded in return as he followed him through the house and into the kitchen. He opened his mouth to speak, only to fall silent when his brother raised his hand in a request for his silence.

"Before you say anything, Luci," Amenadiel began. "I'm going to ask you a few questions, and I demand your complete honesty."

"I'm always honest," Lucifer said, a bit offended by his brother's insinuation that he wasn't. "You're the one who seems to have a problem with that particular virtue."

"No leaving anything out then," he amended with an arch of his brow.

"Fair enough," Lucifer said with a tilt of his head, and rolled his wrist as he signaled his brother to get on with it.

Amenadiel crossed his arms over his chest as he stared at his brother. "When you first met Detective Decker, did you feel drawn to her?" he asked, only to roll his eyes at his brother's playful smile. "More than just sexually."

Lucifer's smile faded as he looked at his brother. "Yes," he admitted with a sigh.

"Be specific, Luci," Amenadiel demanded. "How were you drawn to her?"

His lips remained closed as his tongue moved up to trace over his front teeth, and Lucifer took in a deep breath before answering his brother's question.

"I couldn't look away from her the first moment we met," he said slowly, hating his brother for digging so deeply for answers he hadn't even wanted to admit to himself. "That first moment when I looked in her eyes, I couldn't see anything else. And later on, when I discovered my ability to pull a person's desire from them had no effect on her, I was . . . I was hooked. She was a mystery I couldn't solve."

Amenadiel breathed in deeply as he nodded slowly. "You told me that your mortality is only in question around her. How so?"

Lucifer fairly snarled as he looked at his brother, and turned around as he moved to the cabinet above the stove. It was the last place he would ever keep liquor, considering the temperatures that would come from below it, but he knew Chloe did so only to keep her daughter from getting into it. He pulled down the bottle of whiskey and reached into the cabinet to the left of it for two glasses. The fact that those same glasses were made of plastic and had cartoon characters on them was of no consequence to him in that moment, though he did hear his brother's chuckle as he poured them both a drink.

Lucifer took a deep swallow of the whiskey, before he set the cup down and met his brother's gaze. "The first time I bled was when I goaded her into shooting me. I was trying to prove a point about my immortality," he said, his grin tinged with wry humor, "and it backfired. I was burned once, carrying her out of a fire," he admitted with ironic humor. "The next time I bled, was when I cut my hand with a knife here in her house. The third time was tonight when Malcolm killed me. When the good detective is not around, my immortality is unquestioned."

Amenadiel nodded slowly, his eyes wide, and took a drink from the princess-decorated glass. "When you are enraged, the devil inside you demanding to be let free, can she calm you?"

"Yes," Lucifer admitted heavily. "She's done so on multiple occasions. All it seems to take is a few words, a touch, sometimes, just a glance."

"And when you've felt unstable," Amenadiel pressed further. "Does she make you feel strong?"

Lucifer growled as he was forced to admit another truth he hadn't wanted to. "Yes. What is the bloody point of this?"

"Just answer a few more questions, brother, and then I will tell you," Amenadiel promised. He waited for Lucifer's nod before he continued. "How long after working together, did sex with other people no longer appeal to you?"

He tried to scoff, tried to brush off the question with his normal wit and bravado, only to meet his brother's gaze and fall silent with a deep sigh.

"Six months," Lucifer admitted, and watched Amenadiel nod thoughtfully. "It didn't stop me from fulfilling my carnal desires, but there was one night, one . . . moment . . ." He drew in a deep breath and released it in a heavy sigh. "And then I just couldn't anymore. They weren't her."

"The deal you made with father tonight," he said, and held up his hand when Lucifer looked ready to protest. "In agreement to do as he asked, and be the 'perfect son', what did father have to promise you in return?"

"To protect Chloe," Lucifer said, his breath rolling from him as his eyes flashed red at the memory of what had brought him to make that promise. "To always keep her and Beatrice safe." He swallowed down the last of his whiskey before pouring more into his cup, and looked up at his brother, his emotions storming in his eyes. "Now what was this bloody round of twenty questions about, _dear brother_?" he fairly snarled.

"One last question, Luci," Amenadiel postponed him. "You _saved_ Chloe once. You were shot, but you didn't bleed. Your immortality was still intact back then. So what changed?"

Lucifer shook his head. "I . . . " His voice trailed off, the uncertainty clear in his expression.

"You fell in love with her," Amenadiel answered his own question, and watched Lucifer recoil as he scoffed.

"I'm the devil, you nit," Lucifer growled. "The devil doesn't fall in love."

"Then why did you go after her? Why have you saved her time and time again, if not for love?" Amenadiel asked pointedly. 

"What is your point with all of this?" Lucifer raged quietly, his voice growling.

"My point," Amenadiel emphasized, "is that you have _repeatedly_ sacrificed yourself for her, and only for her - and her child," he allowed with a tilt of his head. "You would return to Hell - give up your freedom - for _her_. Not for father, not for me, or Mazikeen, but for her - a human. You _protect_ her," he continued, his words slow as he stared at his brother pointedly. "You _care_ about her. Even now, you are more angered that I'm keeping you _from her_ than you are that I'm asking these questions."

"Stop this nonsense," he scoffed, and downed the half glass of whiskey in one long gulp.

"Don't brush me off, Luci. You won't survive without her," Amenadiel warned. "And she won't survive without you. Only true love could make an angel so vulnerable."

"I've no time for fairytales, brother," Lucifer sneered, and turned away. "The devil can't fall in love," he laughed at the absurdity of it. "Not that it would matter if I had. You seem to forget, dear brother. Once I find mummy and put her back in her cage, I will be condemned to Hell as well."

Amenadiel watched Lucifer turn away and leave the kitchen. "No you won't, Luci," he said when Lucifer was too far away to hear him, and disappeared with a rush of wind.

 

 

**~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~**

 

 

Lucifer opened the door quietly as he stepped into Chloe's bedroom, and shut the door silently behind himself. He bent down to remove his hand-stitched Italian shoes, and set them by the door before he removed his belt. In moments, he was wearing nothing but his black silk boxers, his pants and shirt folded neatly on the chair by the window with his suit jacket folded over the back of it. Chloe moaned as he sat on the bed behind her, and he lifted the cotton sheets and overstuffed comforter as he slipped into the bed with her.

He smiled when she called his name, and leaned over to press a kiss to her temple as he settled behind her. He soothed her when she turned to face him, his expression turning serious as she tucked herself against his chest. Unlike himself, Amenadiel had not only the ability, but also the will to lie. Lucifer knew that he could lie if he wanted to, but had never once seen the point of doing so. It simply wasn't in the devil's nature to be dishonest, but his brother's honesty was something that was almost always in question. At least when it came to him. 

He didn't know if he believed in the notion of an angel finding true love, or that Chloe was his. The only thing he was certain of, beyond the shadow of a doubt, was that he would do anything to protect Chloe and her little spawn. When he had seen Malcolm pointing a gun at Chloe earlier that evening, and heard the deranged man's confession that he had meant to kill her almost a year prior on Palmetto Street, he had felt something inside him snap even as the coldness of his rage gave him a certain kind of clarity. He had vowed in that moment to do whatever it took to protect Chloe, even if it meant his own mortal death. 

"Lucifer?" Chloe called his name again as her eyes fluttered open, turning her head up to look at him, her gaze darkened by the exhaustion clouding her mind.

He kissed her brow in lieu of answering her, and felt the rush of her breath against his chest when she sighed deeply.

"Don't leave," she begged, the words slurred together, as she fought to stay awake.

"Wouldn't dream of it," he told her, and chuckled as he smiled wickedly at her. "Looks like I finally got you into bed."

"Shaddup," she mumbled, and slapped weakly at his chest.

"Go to sleep, love," he told her softly, as he captured her offending hand and held it over his heart. "I'll keep you safe."

She mumbled softly, her words unintelligible, before her eyes fluttered closed and she fell asleep in his arms. He chuckled at the sound of his name on her lips and wondered why it seemed that everything between them was always, in some manner, upside down and backwards. He kissed her brow as he petted her hair, before he let his head drop to the pillow with a sigh, and was asleep within seconds. 

A dark shadow fell across the patch of moonlight that crossed the corner of the end of the bed. The eyes that watched over the occupants of the bed were dark, fierce, and though the person they belonged to had often wanted to kill the detective, Mazikeen found that the human woman had earned a grudging kind of respect from her. Mazikeen was a demon, immortal, but still the detective had thrown herself on top of her, shielding her with her fragile human body. 

Mazikeen turned away from the sleeping couple, exiting the room soundlessly and stepped through the house. So much had happened that day, so many things that she was still only beginning to understand. She and the detective had been reluctant partners for a few good hours, though somehow both had found amusement and excitement in the pairing. Amenadiel had nearly died and she had given the feather she had taken from Lucifer's wing to heal the angel, and in the same moment admitted that there was something undeniable and intangible between her and Lucifer's brother. 

And then there was Trixie, she thought as she stepped up to the child's bedroom and slipped inside. She would never admit as such out loud, but she was very attached to the child who seemed enamored by her boss. Trixie wasn't shy about saying what she thought, or giving an honest answer even if it sounded rude. Perhaps it was just the simplicity of youth that allowed the child such frank honesty, but she appreciated it all the same. It was why she had fought so hard to get back here, back to LUX to warn Lucifer about his mother even though she had barely been able to keep herself upright. The thought of his mother hurting Trixie had been the only motivation she'd needed.

"Maze?" Trixie called her name in the darkness, her young voice thickened by her tears.

"Thought you were asleep," Mazikeen said as she looked at Trixie.

Trixie shrugged her shoulders quietly as she bit her lip. "I try, but . . . I keep seeing that man, the detective. He scared mom. I've never seen mom scared before," she admitted softly.

"Malcolm is dead, and he is in Hell where he belongs," Mazikeen said matter-of-factly, her expression fierce. "He can't hurt you anymore," she promised Trixie in a softer voice. 

"He tried to kill mom," Trixie said, as she sat up against the headboard of her bed with her knees against her chest and wrapped her arms around her legs. "He said he'd tried to kill her before. He laughed. He . . . And then Lucifer. . . " Trixie fell silent as her breath hitched and tears filled her eyes. "There was blood on his shirt - lots of it," she told Mazikeen. "Mom said he died, and - and . . . "

Mazikeen's eyes widened, her arms held away as she stared down at the human child that was suddenly curled up on her lap with her arms wrapped around her waist. The girl was crying into her chest, and Mazikeen released a deep sigh as she reluctantly returned the embrace, patting Trixie awkwardly on the back. Her head fell back to thump against the wall behind her when Trixie curled closer. 

"I love you, Maze," Trixie murmured as she fell asleep, and the demon looked up at the ceiling. 

She was a warrior, a demon. She was Lucifer's most loyal and fierce protector. She was feared by most, but this small human child loved her. And Lucifer, Mazikeen admitted reluctantly, loved the child's mother. Her arms tightened around Trixie unconsciously when she thought of the possibility that the girl could have been killed that night, and she found herself shaken by the prospect of it. Trixie had been the first true friend she had made, and she knew she would do whatever it took to protect the girl in her arms.

"What do you want?" Mazikeen asked, her voice casual and uncaring as she kept her gaze focused on the ceiling, affecting an air of nonchalance. 

"The same thing you do," Amenadiel said as he looked at the picture she made, with the child wrapped in her arms.

"You came here to hold Trixie?" Mazikeen asked as she leveled a bored look at the angel.

"I'm here to protect them," he answered her, his grin teasing even as his eyes spoke of his sincerity. "C'mon, Maze, even you've heard the stories. The soul bond between an angel and their mate."

Mazikeen frowned and nodded slowly. "If an angel and their mate are separated, the mate will die. If the mate of an angel dies, the angel dies," she said as she looked up at Amenadiel. "I thought those were just stories. No angel has ever found a mate before. At least not that I've heard of."

"That's because no angel has," he told her, his tone heavy with the implication of what it meant. "Angels are forbidden to have relations with humans."

Mazikeen scoffed with wry humor. "Really? Then explain niphilium."

"That's why they're forbidden," he said, and released a sigh as he sat on the side of Trixie's bed. "A child of a human and an angel could either be pure and everything divine, or . . . " he said, and lifted his brows in revelation. "They could be more powerful and more dangerous than the worst demons from the pits of Hell. The prospect of them was too dangerous. But then there were also the humans who believed that the niphilium were to be sacrificed as infants, their lives and blood tribute to the God that had allowed them to be created. Humans thought sacrificing them would bring them immortality."

"Oh yes," Mazikeen said with a roll of her eyes. "The beginning of the tales of vampires. Humans who drank the blood of infants to gain immortality. Lucifer favored them when their souls came down to Hell. He was always more creative with them. He never has taken well to the harming of a child."

"No, I don't suppose he would," Amenadiel said, and studied the child in Mazikeen's arms. "Protect them well, Maze."

She narrowed her eyes on him, as she watched him disappear. Something about the tone of his voice had made the words sound like a final goodbye, and she didn't understand it. She shook her head as she reached out for the lamp and extinguished the light to cast the room in darkness. Whatever it was that Amenadiel was thinking, she was certain she would find out about it later. For now, all she wanted to do was sleep.

Reaching for the blanket on the bed when Trixie shivered, Mazikeen wrapped it around the girl in her arms, and closed her eyes. The past twenty-four hours had been challenging to say the least, and she was more than a bit exhausted. Tipping her head down, she kissed the top of Trixie's head without thought, only to scoff at herself for the benevolent gesture. Tipping her head back to lean against the wall behind her, Mazikeen closed her eyes and let sleep claim her.


	2. Chapter 1

AN: Lucifer and all recognizable characters belong to Jerry Bruckheimer and FOX television. Set post 'Take Me Back to Hell'.

 

Summary: There is only one thing that can make an immortal vulnerable, only one thing that can hurt an angel aside from another angel - their mate. It was only a rumor, a baseless myth, something Amenadiel had never believed, until it happened to Lucifer.

  
**Memento Mori**

Chapter 1  
by WhisperingWolf

Chloe looked down at the file in front of her, her eyes narrowing on the witness' statements. She had asked the Lieutenant for leeway, a few weeks, maybe a month at most, to follow up on a few things. After everything she had been through, Olivia had agreed without any hesitation. The fact that Lucifer had chosen that same day to tell her that he needed a few days off for personal reasons, had only left her with nothing to distract her as she had followed the suspicions tickling at the back of her mind.

It had been nothing. There wasn't a moment that she could pinpoint as being the reason for her foray into the evidence room. If anyone asked her why she had started this search, she would have no answer for them, but as she studied the sheet of information in front of her, she felt more than a little horrified at what she had found. The description was vague by comparison, but it was enough to make the connection, and she lifted her hand to cover her mouth as she stared in disbelief. 

She looked back through the archives, searching for cases that were similar to the one she held, only to find fifteen others that were almost identical. She bent forward as she gathered the case files and slipped them into her bag. Something told her to be careful of the cameras, to make certain that there was nothing that would be able to show she had been the one to remove the information. Danger lurked at the back of her mind, a warning telling her to get confirmation before she confronted anyone at the station, or talked openly with Olivia about the information she'd found. 

It didn't take her long to get home and unpack the case files. She didn't look at the photographs, or any listings of evidence. Instead, she pulled the witness statements from each file, specifically the page that described not only the attack, but the attacker himself. Dark hair, hints of red and brown, shaggy, but neat. Facial hair, stubble around the jaw, and a full mustache. Five foot ten inches, one hundred-sixty to one hundred-eighty pounds. Muscular, but not toned. Caucasian, features were average. 

Each victim had declined to sit with a sketch artist. Each victim had declined to press charges, and there had been notes by the investigators that the victims had seemed disbelieving that the police could do anything to protect them. A choked sound escaped her throat as she shook her head and looked down at the papers. Each victim had noted that they had been pulled over for traffic violations anywhere from one to three days prior to their attack, but there had been nothing entered into the official records. 

Chloe pulled out her flip book, making note of each victim's name and their address. Ten of the victims were still in LA proper, but six of them lived in different cities of the county she was sworn to protect. She was careful as tucked the book back into her jacket pocket, before tucking the files back behind the cabinet under sink. She had been a teenager when she had carved out the hole under the cabinet bottom and placed a metal lock box on the floorboards below. When she had been younger, the hiding place had been used to store the things she didn't want her mother to find, but now she used it to hide the case files she had taken. 

The afternoon traffic slowed her trip back to the station, her mind spinning with thoughts of disbelief and horror. It was one thing to be on the take, to accept bribes and such, but this? She didn't want to think he was capable of doing these things. She didn't want to think it of anyone, but the more she thought over the case files, the more the pieces fit together in a neat little picture. 

Chloe didn't think twice as she reached out to her phone mounted on the dash of her car. She wasn't one to panic, or jump to conclusions without the proper information to make the connection, but in this she could take no chances. She selected the number from her list of contacts and waited.

"He isn't here," Mazikeen answered her call, her tone bored.

"I'm not calling for Lucifer," Chloe told the bartender. "I'm calling for you."

"Really?" she asked, her voice taking on a curiously sexual tone. 

"Do you two always jump straight to sex?" Chloe asked, at once both annoyed and amused. 

"You can't say you're not curious," Mazikeen told her with a teasing tone. "Especially after you jumped me."

"I was protecting you from a bullet!" Chloe snapped, and closed her eyes as she took in a deep breath. 

"You're upset," Mazikeen observed, her tone suspicious. "What did you call me for?" she asked, her voice making it clear she understood that something more than her teasing had put the detective in such a defensive mood.

"I need you to go down to Trixie's school," Chloe said, her voice steady, wooden. "Please get her. Don't let her out of your sight until I come to pick her up."

"What's happened?" Mazikeen asked, her voice no longer playful in any manner. "I'm pretty sure I'm the last person you would call for this."

"I don't have time to get into it right now," Chloe said as she took the turnoff to the station. "Just please go get her."

"She's my friend," Mazikeen told her. "I won't let anything harm her," she promised fiercely.

"Thank you," Chloe said, her voice choked. "I have to go."

She disconnected the call a moment later, and gripped the steering wheel tight enough to turn her knuckles white. Malcolm was dead, there was no risk of him coming after her for this investigation, but what if he hadn't been the only one? What if there was someone else involved? She felt her breathing escalate as her panic resurfaced, the night of Trixie's kidnapping and Lucifer's death flooding her mind. It had been five days since that night. Five days since she had watched Lucifer die. Five days since he had told her simply that he had "got better". 

It had been three days since the last time she had seen him. She had believed she would be fine, told him as much herself, but without him there, the nightmares had come hard and fast. She would wake up sobbing, calling out for him, and believing he hadn't come back to her. Trixie was waking up screaming at night as well, her daughter's fear only building on her own and making her that much more unstable. She needed to see him, to feel him there beside her, to smell him and hear his voice, but she had stayed away.

Her hands shook as she pulled into the station and shut off the engine of her car. It took her a few minutes to push the memories back under the wall that only seemed to crumble at night. Stepping from her car, she walked into the station and moved to the corkboard that held pictures of their parties and gatherings, memories of the happy times the police officers all shared. She was careful to look around her as she removed a picture of Malcolm in plain clothes from the board. 

Five minutes later, Chloe was back behind the wheel of her car, the picture of Malcolm Graham mixed in with five other photos of men who looked enough like him they could be siblings. Some of them were other cops, but most had been suspects at one time, or another. The last victim in her book lived the closest to the station, and she circled the address before pulling out of the station parking lot and returning to the freeway. 

"You did your job for years without him," Chloe reminded herself, as she felt both the need and the desire to have Lucifer there with her. "Just get a hold of yourself, Decker."

She jumped at the sound of her phone ringing, and glanced at the caller ID to find that it was Trixie's school calling her. Taking in a deep steadying breath, she answered the call, and listened to the woman on the other end.

"I did ask her to go and pick up Trixie," she told the administration worker. "Could you please get the copy of Trixie's Emergency Contact List?" she asked, and waited for the woman's reply. "Put her on the phone," she commanded when the woman began to argue.

"You humans," Mazikeen said by way of greeting, the annoyance in her tone clear, and Chloe laughed.

"Yeah," Chloe agreed with a chuckle. "Sandra's going to be getting Trixie's Emergency Contact Form," she told the bartender. "Add your information and Lucifer's please."

"What's the point of doing that?" Mazikeen asked, and Chloe shook her head.

"The point," she said, "is that once you're both added to that list, those humans won't have any question as to why you're picking up my daughter. It also means that if Trixie asks them to, they will call you without hesitation."

The silence that greeted her was deafening, and Chloe had to glance at her phone to make certain the call was still active. She knew Mazikeen was suspicious, the ninja bartender often able to put the pieces together as fast, if not faster, than Lucifer at times. 

"I will always protect her," Mazikeen promised, her voice holding a hard edge.

"That's all I ask," Chloe said as she pulled up to the apartment building. "I have to go."

Ending the phone call, Chloe switched off her Bluetooth headset and left the device in the car as she tucked her phone into her pocket. She gathered the file folder holding the pictures, and left the car, locking it with the remote on her keychain as she stepped up to the white stone building. The doorman let her in easily, her badge the only identification the man needed, and she stepped into the building quietly. 

"May I help you?" a woman asked from the front desk, and Chloe nodded as she walked toward the woman.

"Detective Chloe Decker, LAPD. I'm here to see Sasha Penlow," she said, as she lifted her badge for the woman to see.

"Oh," the woman said softly, her voice subdued. "Miss Penlow, she . . . she committed suicide three days ago. They found her in her apartment."

Chloe's eyes widened as she nodded slowly. Suicide. Why did that revelation make her suspicious instead of sad.

"Do you know how she committed suicide?" Chloe asked, and glanced down at the nametag. "Bethany."

"All I know, is that she was found in the bath," Bethany said with a shrug. "There are rumors that it was sleeping pills and wine, but I've never known her to drink."

"Did you know her well?" Chloe asked as she pulled out the steno pad from her pocket, and flipped it open.

"We were pretty good friends. She moved here from the Midwest - Iowa, I think it was. She got a job with some advertising firm and was making six figures before she knew what to do with it. She was always pretty quiet, but she never had alcohol any of the times we went out. Even at bars she would just get a club soda with a slice of lime," she said, and looked down at her hands. "I still can't believe she's gone. It doesn't feel real."

"I'm sorry for your loss," Chloe said, and nodded her thanks for the information. 

She spent the next two hours driving to different parts of Los Angeles, only to find the same result. Ten of the fifteen victims had committed suicide, all within the past two weeks. The remaining five victims had moved from their last known addresses, some even to different cities. The closest of the remaining victims lived in San Bernardino, and Chloe typed the address into the maps application on her phone. The distance estimated her travel time at just over an hour, but once the traffic feature had updated, her estimate arrival time put her at nearly two hours out.

Chloe pulled off the road, turning into a nearby gas station, and sat with the car idling in the parking lot. She could go out to see the victim tonight, but what if she found this woman dead as well? The trip would be wasted. She had the next day off, she could go then while her daughter was in school, but what about the other four victims? The next closest one lived in San Francisco. That would be a five and half hour drive just to get there. But not going felt the same as giving up, or ignoring the evidence. 

She looked up as her phone rang, and smiled to see her daughter's name on the screen. 

"Hi, baby," she answered, and listened to her daughter rattle off a few new things she had learned from Mazikeen. "Hey, Trix," she said, interrupting her daughter. "How would you like to spend the night with Maze?" she asked, and smiled at the answering reply. "Ok," she laughed. "You'd better let me talk to her."

She heard voices in the background as the device changed hands.

"How's your investigation going?" Lucifer asked, and Chloe felt her eyes sting at the very welcomed sound of his voice.

"Not well," she said, her own voice breathless and choked. "How have you been?"

"Nothing can keep the Devil down," he teased her, and Chloe smiled at the sexual undertones in his voice. 

She heard him call out to someone in the background, and listened as another man spoke. She shook her head at the conversation, the knowledge that he had ordered take out from Trixie's favorite restaurant making her smile. He returned to her a moment later, apologizing for the interruption, and she closed her eyes as she let his voice wash over her. Telling him how much she needed him, how much she missed him, it would just be adding to what he was already dealing with, wouldn't it? 

"Someone's gone quiet," he mused, and she realized she hadn't spoken for at least a few minutes. "You still there with me?"

"I'm here," Chloe answered softly, and cleared her throat as she tried to make her voice sound more confident than she felt. "I know it's short notice, but would you, or Maze be able to watch Trixie tonight?"

"When you say 'tonight'?" he asked, and left the question unfinished in the air.

"I may not be home until sometime tomorrow afternoon," she said, and frowned when he grew quiet. 

"Is everything alright, Detective?" Lucifer asked her, and Chloe folded her lips in over her teeth to keep from saying what she wanted to say.

"It's just a case I'm working on," she said, telling herself that it wasn't a lie, but it wasn't the whole truth, either. Lucifer had taught her to make the distinction, that sometimes not saying everything was better than saying nothing at all.

"Your spawn will be just fine here," he promised her. "She's got quite the natural talent for music, even if her hands are a bit small," he told her, and Chloe swore it was pride she heard in his voice.

"She loves it when you teach her to play," Chloe told him quietly. 

"Are you alright?" he asked her, the lack of background noise telling her he had moved somewhere to talk with her privately. "Tell me about this case of yours." 

She cupped her hand over her forehead as she bit down hard on the inside of her cheek. She wanted so badly to ask him to come with her, to meet her, but she couldn't do it. Making the request when he had told her he needed a few days to himself felt to her as though she were completely disregarding his need for time away from the police side of things. He had been shot. He had died for her. The least she could do was keep the cop stuff to herself.

"It's nothing much," she said. "Just a few things that didn't add up, and I'm checking in on them. There's a witness in San Francisco I need to talk with, and another in San Bernardino."

He hummed his reply, a noise she had come to learn meant he was accepting her answer even though he knew she wasn't telling him everything. 

"Heading off to the coast then, are you?" he asked casually. "Seems a bit more logical to start there, and then hit the other on your way back."

"That's what I was thinking," she agreed easily, as she turned to her notes and looked for the San Franciscan address. 

"Yes, well, considering I know the less than spectacular places you might find yourself in," he teased her, "let me call a room for you," he offered, and Chloe bit her lip.

"Ok," she agreed before she'd even thought to protest. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," he told her in that same breathless tone he'd always had when she'd thanked him for something.

The call ended only a few moments later, with his promise that he would text her the address of the hotel and any other information she would need. There was a part of her that wished he would meet her at the hotel, finding herself confused by how painfully she ached at his absence. She only felt this way because of what had happened, she told herself, as she closed her eyes and fought to put the wall back up around her heart. 

She couldn't let herself fall for him. If she did, if she gave in and they had their one night together, what would happen once it was over? Would he still be there by her side, or would he find his fascination fulfilled and leave her like he had so many other countless women? She couldn't risk being hurt like that again. She had Trixie to think about, too, but it was more than that. The recent events that had led to him saving her and Trixie had revealed one rather frightening truth. If something did happen between them and she lost him, it would break her beyond repair.
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
        **~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~**
      
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    

Lucifer looked down at the phone in his hand, studying it long after the call had ended. He knew it wasn't his imagination. Chloe had sounded off, frightened even. The tone of her voice had reminded him of the day when Trixie had been taken. She had tried to play it cool then, too, but he had felt her upset as though it were his own. Something had been wrong then, and something was definitely wrong now. The final nail in the coffin had been when she had agreed without hesitation, or argument, to let him arrange a hotel for her.

"Maze," he called out as he stood from the chair by the bookcase, and moved through the penthouse. "I will be out for the evening," he told her as he handed her the child's phone, and poured himself a drink at the bar. "Take care of the spawn."

She didn't say anything as she stared at him silently, a single brow arched. He watched her curiously as he studied her emotions. She had been different since that day, and he wondered if it was just working with Chloe that had finally bridged the gap between the women. They weren't so different, Mazikeen and his detective. Both sought to punish the guilty, although Mazikeen's punishments were always a bit more inventive than Chloe's strict law and order method. 

"You have something to say?" he asked her, and watched as she took the cup from his hand to sip at the amber liquid inside. 

"Nope," she denied, and set the glass down with a knowing look. "She sounded off earlier, too. Whatever she's looking into, she needs backup," Mazikeen said wisely before moving away. 

"It's curious," he mused as he followed her with his eyes. "You don't seem as disapproving of her anymore."

"We came to an understanding," Mazikeen said, and Lucifer knew she wouldn't tell him any more than that. 

"Right," he said, and cleared his throat as he stepped over to gather his phone from the table. 

It didn't take him long to secure a room at the St. Regis San Francisco Hotel, the suite holding a single California-King sized bed, and a fully stocked mini bar. He had made certain that the suite also held a Jacuzzi bath and hot tub, and made reservations for Chloe to have a massage once she arrived. It was rare that she allowed him to do something like this for her, and he planned to take full advantage of the situation. He would spoil her, show her how he thought she deserved to be treated. 

He didn't tell Chloe the name of the hotel, knowing she would balk at the grandeur of it, and simply sent her the street address. He smiled at the answering text he received, and denied her request for a room number as he told her simply to ask for a night time concierge by name. Within moments he had gathered an overnight bag. 

"Look after Maze while I'm gone," he told Trixie when she gave him a hug before he left. "Keep her out of trouble," he teased, and patted the girl's head. 

"I love you, Lucifer," Trixie whispered to him, and he felt a sudden tightness in his chest, followed by an equally disarming disability to breathe. 

He nodded to her when she released him and stepped toward the elevator. He needed to talk to Dr. Martin about this. It wasn't the first time he had felt this reaction, but they were getting stronger, and he didn't know what to do. Why would he be fine one moment, and suffocate the next? Was this some new form of torture? Chloe made him exsanguinate, and now it seemed that her daughter made him suffocate. This would not do.

**~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~**
    
    
      
    

"I knew I should have asked him for the name," Chloe said as she stared up at the extravagant hotel.

She turned her head when the valet approached her car, and rolled down her window for him to speak.

"Ma'am," the young man greeted, and offered her a cordial nod. "Are you Detective Decker?"

"Yes," she answered easily, and watched the man smile. 

"Mr. Morningstar called ahead and planned for everything, ma'am," he told her. "Will you be needing help with your things?" he asked, and Chloe frowned in confusion. "Valet parking," he clarified. "Full service including a wash and wax."

"Of course he did," Chloe said, and sighed as she shook her head. "No, thank you. I don't have much," she told him, and turned off the car. 

She gathered her bag, tucking the manila folder containing the photographs inside. If she had planned better she would have brought a change of clothes with her, or at least a few toiletries, but she hadn't done either. Thanking the man when he handed her the number tag for her car, Chloe gave him her keys and headed into the hotel. If she had thought the outside was ornately decorated, it was absolutely nothing compared to elegance and beauty of the lobby. 

"Lucifer, what are you doing?" she whispered to no one in particular as she shook her head. 

"Good evening," a man greeted her as she stepped up to the information desk.

"Good evening," she returned. "I was told to ask for Quentin," she told the man, and watched him nod. 

"Right this way, ma'am," he told her as he stepped around the desk. "I'm Quentin," he introduced himself. "Mr. Morningstar has taken care of everything."

"That's what people keep telling me," she said, and looked around the lobby. 

Quentin chuckled as he walked beside her. "Victoria," he called out to a woman as they passed by an open room. "This is Detective Decker. Detective, this is Victoria. She is one of our best masseuses and will be escorting you up to your suite. Mr. Morningstar gave instructions for a full massage upon your arrival. Room service will be up shortly with the light faire he requested for you. Some fruits, cheeses, and champagne," he informed her. "He said he doubted you'd be terribly hungry after your drive, but if there's anything else you'd like to have, just charge it to the room. He's taking care of everything."

Chloe stared at the man, the expression on her face unreadable. Give him an inch and he takes a mile, she thought. But there was a part of her that was grateful for the lengths he had gone to. She was tired, worn, and far too on edge from her recent discoveries. She frowned in thought as she kept the slow pace next to the woman beside her. 

"I have to admit," Victoria told Chloe as they walked down the hall to the elevators, "I'm a bit jealous. To have someone spoil you in such a manner, he must be pretty special."

Chloe nodded quietly as she thought over everything. How many times had he done something like this for her? She laughed softly as she thought back to that fateful morning when they had first truly started to work together. He had broken into her house to make her an omelet, one of the best she had ever had, and she had pulled her gun on him. Her smile widened with humor at the memory. Her towel had fallen and he had gotten an eyeful. Oh, but he had repaid her in kind later that evening. 

"He really is," she said softly, as the elevator arrived at their destination.
    
    
    
    
    

  
**~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~**

"Lucifer," Dr. Martin spoke his name with surprise when he walked into her office. "I was just getting ready to leave - what . . . What's wrong?" she asked, stopping herself as she looked at the rather confusing expression on his face.

"I don't know what's happening to me," he told her as he moved to sit on her couch. "It doesn't make any sense."

"What doesn't?" she asked as she took a seat in the chair. 

Lucifer looked at Dr. Martin as he studied her. The easiest way to say something was often the most direct way. No frills, no softening the blows, or making something sound tactful just to make it more appropriate. He was the devil after all. He was nothing if not inappropriate. Chloe had told him that on a few occasions, and it still made him smile to think about it.

"Her spawn makes me suffocate," he said, and watched the woman stare at him in utter confusion. "Beatrice, Chloe's daughter," he clarified as he sat forward on the couch and leaned over to rest his elbows on his knees. "She makes me suffocate."

"And when does this happen?" she asked him patiently as she tried to sort out the emotion he was trying to describe. 

"More often of late," he said with a truly confused shake of his head. "The strongest I've felt it was tonight. She latched on before I left. My chest was tight, like someone had their fist around my heart. And then she said . . . what she said, and I couldn't breathe."

"And what did she say?" she asked him.

"She said she loved me," he told her, and looked up to see her knowing smile.

"And the other times when you've felt this before," she said. "Did it happen the same way?"

"Tonight was the first time she's said that," he told her with a look of confusion. "It's not the words," he scoffed.

"Alright," Dr. Martin said patiently, and sat back as she studied him. "Tell me something, Lucifer," she began. "If someone were to hurt Beatrice . . . " she said, and let her question hang unfinished in the air between them.

"They would pay _dearly_ ," he growled low. "Someone already did try to hurt her. Five days ago, in fact," he said, his expression teasing, but his eyes hard and angry. "They're dead now," he said with dark satisfaction.

"Tell me about that," she instructed him. "What happened?"

Lucifer sat back as he told her all that had happened from the street preacher, to Malcolm framing him for the crime, to Trixie getting kidnapped by Malcolm. The same odd feeling had happened when Chloe had told him about the phone call, and Malcolm's demand for the money. Rage was something he knew well, he told her, but in the same moment he had felt the rage, he had also felt this same heart-stopping suffocation. 

She listened as he told her about getting shot and surviving, letting her draw whatever conclusion she would about the fact that he was uninjured. He had tried to tell her a few times that he was immortal, but just as with the other truths he'd told her, she didn't believe it was anything more than a metaphor. He demanded an explanation from her for what he was feeling, and watched as she smiled with affection and the barest hint of humor.

"When you're away from them," she said as she watched him, "do you think about them? Think about being with them?"

"Yes," he admitted at length. "It's very distracting."

"Lucifer, what you're feeling is love," she told him. "You love them both. The love we feel for a child, and the love a child gives to us, can be very striking and even unsettling. It can stop you cold with the fear of them being hurt, and make you perform feats you thought impossible just to save them. From everything you've told me, you would protect them both, give your life for theirs, just to make certain they are safe and happy. That is love, pure and true."

"Love?" he asked her, as though the very idea of it was foreign to him. 

"Yes," she told him patiently. "Love." 

"I'm the Devil," he told her, and shook his head. "The Devil doesn't fall in love," he denied, and she arched a curious brow.

"Perhaps the Devil doesn't," she said as he met her gaze. "But maybe _Lucifer_ does."
    
    
    
    

  
**~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~**

Lucifer set his bag down by the couch as he stepped through the hotel suite. Quentin was an old friend of his, someone he had done a favor for years back when he had first left Hell behind, and the man had repaid his debt this evening. He had informed Lucifer that while reluctant at first, Detective Decker had fallen into the relaxation of the massage and extravagant suite. When Victoria had left her, Chloe had been boneless from the massage and ready to enter the hot tub for a bit.

He smiled as he came to stand in the doorway that led to the sunken hot tub. Chloe was still inside the heated bath, her body laid back in graceful abandon and her eyes closed. It was about time the woman relaxed, he thought as he toed out of his shoes and removed his suite jacket. He shook his head as he removed the rest of his clothing until he stood only in his black silk boxers. It had only been five days since everything had happened and Chloe's world had been turned upside down. 

Lucifer stepped down into the heated water and moved quietly toward the woman sleeping against the opposite side. There were circles under her eyes, he noted with a frown. She groaned softly when he gathered her in his arms and lifted her against his chest. He carried her out of the hot tub and into the bedroom. It only took him a few minutes to dry her off and tuck her beneath the blankets. She whimpered softly as her eyes fluttered without opening, and he shushed her gently as he leaned down to kiss her brow.

"Just sleep, Detective," he told her softly. 

He stood from the bed, leaving her to sleep as he moved to the bathroom. She hadn't brought any toiletries that he could see, and he hadn't seen anything aside from the bag she carried for work. It didn't make sense to him. If this was a planned work trip, wouldn't she have brought a change of clothes with her at the very least? Something wasn't adding up, and the more he tried to sort it all out, the less sense it made. 

"Lucifer?" Chloe called out, her voice trembling and broken. "Lucifer? No. No please."

He turned around at the sound of fear and sorrow in Chloe's voice and moved back toward the bed. She was still asleep, he noted, but she was calling for him. He frowned as he sat beside her, touched her face as he cupped her cheek in his hand. She was afraid, but of what? He chaffed the pad of his thumb over the curve of her cheek, only to frown at feel of her tears. 

"Detective," he called down to her. "Chloe," he called to her again. "Chloe, wake up," he commanded of her when she called his name again, and sat back when she bolted upright. 

Her eyes were wide, wild, and he could see the fear and grief that clouded her mind. He tried to soothe her, spoke to her softly, only to pull back in confusion when her hands were suddenly touching his stomach, searching him. He caught her wrists easily, pulling her attention up to his eyes, and promised her that he was alright, no injury to be found. 

"See?" he said as he pressed her hand against the place Malcolm had shot him days ago. "Perfect as ever, nothing to worry about," he promised her, and watched as her fear receded leaving her exhausted in its wake. 

"You're here?" she asked confused, her voice breathless as she blinked tiredly. 

"Move over, bed hog," he teased her, and laid down beside her when she made room. "So tell me about this case," he requested of her, as he pulled her down to tuck her into his side. 

She curled into him, her cheek pillowed on his chest as she began to talk to him. He toyed with her hair as she spoke, listened as she told him of overhearing a few of the rookie traffic cops talking about a rumor they'd heard. It would have been nothing, something easily forgotten, if the story hadn't sounded so familiar. She hadn't remembered where, or when she had originally heard it, but what had started as a moment of curiosity had soon turned into something darker. 

"At least fifteen victims," Chloe said, curling closer to Lucifer and finding comfort in the way his arm tightened around her back. "Who knows how many went unreported. I took the files home. As much as I wanted to, I didn't feel safe looking at them at the station. Every single one of the witness statements was almost identical. Pulled over for a traffic violation by an unmarked police car, but there were no tickets for them in the system. Then anywhere from twenty-four to seventy-two hours later, the victims were attacked in their home, by the same police officer that pulled them over."

Chloe sighed as she clenched her jaw and pressed closer to him. Lucifer rubbed her arm as he tipped his head to kiss her hair. It wasn't often that something could rattle the good detective, and that it had to do with the late Malcolm Graham only made him more protective of her. He knew she wouldn't rest until she had the truth, but he also had no intention of letting her investigate this alone. One dirty cop from her Palmetto case had turned into three, and the danger she had been subjected to just to close it out still had the power to enrage him.

"What did you learn from the victims?" he asked her, and smiled when she curled closer, her arm sliding across his stomach. 

"I didn't," Chloe said, and Lucifer knew from the sound of her voice that she was only moments from falling back to sleep. "The ones that still had addresses in L.A. are dead. But it doesn't make any sense. All of them committed suicide. While that's suspect enough in itself, they all did it in the past two weeks, three of them in the past two days."

"We'll find the answers," he promised her. "What else is there?" he asked her as he reached down for the blankets, covering them both when she shivered. 

"No one investigated the reports. No one looked into their claims, or did anything other than take their statements. And now . . ." She paused, and Lucifer felt her jaw move and the rush of air against his chest as she yawned. "At least two of the victims that committed suicide died in suspicious ways, but no one investigated that, either. I've got to look into them when I get back, and see if there were any autopsies done. I just . . . If someone is cleaning up his mess . . ."

"Then it begs the question, who's doing it?" Lucifer finished for her. "And you wonder why I called your lot a corrupt little organization when we first met," he said, and released a sigh. "Maze told me about your call earlier," he told her, drawing his fingertips up and down in lazy patterns over her arm. "Your spawn will be protected. I can have Maze gather her from school when we can't. Make certain there's no doubt about her safety," he offered, and looked down when she failed to respond. He chuckled softly to find she had fallen asleep. "Sleep well, Chloe," he bid her, and kissed her hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The original plan had been to space the pre-written chapters out a week at a time to give myself more time to, you guessed it, write more. But it's Saturday, technically my Friday at work, and I'm feeling all the excitement y'all have given me. Ye have fed the beast! Thanks for stopping by! Love hearing from all of you.


	3. Chapter 2

AN: Lucifer and all recognizable characters belong to Jerry Bruckheimer and FOX television. Set post 'Take Me Back to Hell'.

 

Summary: There is only one thing that can make an immortal vulnerable, only one thing that can hurt an angel aside from another angel - their mate. It was only a rumor, a baseless myth, something Amenadiel had never believed, until it happened to Lucifer.

**Memento Mori**

Chapter 2

by WhisperingWolf

Lucifer's eyes opened slowly as light filled the room in a soft golden glow, crimson dusting the edges from the rising sun. It took him a moment to remember where he was, the room unfamiliar, and looked down at the woman tucked against his side. He ran his fingertips along her arm draped over his stomach, feeling the softness of her skin. His lips pulled up at the corner in a hint of a smile, as he dipped his head down to look at her face.

He felt the rush of air, the movement against his side, as Chloe breathed in deeply. Her warmth soothed him, her presence calming him even as he felt that every cell in his body was ignited and deeply attuned to her. Her dark blonde hair fanned across his shoulder and chest, the strands curled slightly from being allowed to dry naturally as she'd slept. He brushed his fingertips up across her cheek as he tucked her hair back behind her ear, and cupped the curve of her jaw in his hand. 

She stirred against him, and he watched as her eyes fluttered open. Why did she affect him so deeply? How did she have the power to make him so vulnerable? It wasn't just the mystical aspects of it, the way she was able to invalidate his immortality. It was the way she could make his heart race, how just catching a whiff of her scent in the air could tighten his muscles and silence his mind. How many times had she been able to calm his rage, to take away the power of his fury when no one else could? 

"Lucifer?" 

He met Chloe's eyes, her voice pulling him from his thoughts, and chaffed the pad of his thumb over the curve of her cheek. She curled closer to him, as she hummed softly, and he wondered if she was aware of the action. He chuckled at her drowsy movements, the way she pulled her arm in, her hand sliding across his chest to curl next to her face. Her leg slipped over and in between his, the inside of her arch rubbing against his calf as she stretched.

"Good morning, Detective," Lucifer purred as he breathed in, and smiled down at her when she turned her face up to him.

"Lucifer?" she spoke his name again, her brow furrowed. "I thought . . . It wasn't a dream?"

"Depends on which part you're talking about," he mused with a salacious grin, and laughed when she slapped her hand against his chest lightly. "Cheeky," he admonished her teasingly. 

He watched her brow furrow as confusion flitted across her features. "I remember being in the hot tub, and then talking to you, but . . ."

"You fell asleep in the hot tub," he told her, taking pity on her. "That's where I found you last night. Well, this morning really. It was about half three when I arrived. I find it rather amusing, really."

"What?" she asked, as she sank deeper into the comforting warmth of his embrace.

"That night you showed up rather inebriated to my place," he told her, and chuckled at the look on her face. "You snored like an Albanian field wench, I told you that even." He smiled wide as he pulled in a deep breath, the air rolling at the back of his throat like a soft growl. "But last night, barely a peep out of you."

He watched her bite her lip as she smiled, his eyes following the movement. His gaze moved back up to meet hers, his brow arching as he noticed her gaze moving between his mouth and eyes. He knew that look, had seen it on countless other women, but to see it on Chloe struck him to his core.

"Wine," Chloe answered breathlessly. "I was more than two bottles in when I came to your place that night. I don't generally get that drunk, and certainly not on wine," she told him, and chuckled. "Thank you," she said after a moment, and he tipped his head with a confused frown. "For this," she clarified, her gaze moving around the room. "For all of this. For coming here when you didn't have to. Thank you."

"You're welcome," he told her, and moved to kiss her brow.

He hadn't registered her movement when she began to turn her head up to him to meet his gaze, and instead of kissing her forehead, his lips found hers. He stilled for the space of one heartbeat and then two, before he groaned as he fell into the kiss, fire lancing through his veins. She gasped against his mouth, a tremble ricocheting through her muscles as he tasted the sweetness of her lips. He was floored once more when she didn't pull away as he expected her to, but instead pushed closer. Lucifer turned as he kissed her, lying her back on the pillows as he moved over her, and groaned at the sweet pain when her hands fisted in his hair. 

Her blunt nails scraped against his scalp, her legs entangled with his in an effort to pull him to her. He swallowed her whimper as she pressed closer to him, and groaned as he deepened their kiss. He pulled back a few moments later, and looked into her eyes, studying her with surprise and lust, only to kiss her chastely once more and roll back to lie on the pillows. He had never stopped, never pulled back with anyone else, but he did with her. He realized in that moment that he didn't want a quick romp with her and wondered what was wrong with him. Why was it that he felt the need to hold out for something more? And what, pray tell, was that elusive "something more"?

"What was that?" Chloe asked breathlessly with wonder, as she rolled over to lie on his chest once more and stared into his eyes.

Lucifer chuckled, his dark eyes shining with amusement as she bounced lightly on his chest. "If I have to explain that to you, love, then your dear Detective Douche was far more inept than I thought," he teased her as he combed his fingers into her hair to hold her face in his hand. "You cried last night," he said with a frown, remembering the tearful dream he had woken her from. "Tell me," he asked of her, and smiled sadly when she nuzzled her cheek against his palm.

Chloe bowed her head as she closed her eyes, trying to force back the tears that always seemed to be just below the surface. Her voice was soft, pained, as she told him of her dreams. When she closed her eyes at night she would be back in that hangar with Malcolm. Everything that could have gone wrong would play out in her dreams. The gunshot that took Lucifer's life would play on a loop until that was the only thing she could hear. 

"In my dreams," she told him with a shaking breath, "you don't come back."

"I'll always come back to you," he promised her, and wrapped his arms around her as he pulled her down to lie on his chest. "You've no idea how tempted I am to keep you in this bed all day. To taste every inch of you," he told her, and felt the vibrations of her laughter as she chuckled.

"You just can't have one serious moment, can you?" she teased him, and turned her blue eyes up to meet his. 

"When you're in your knickers, I'm in my pants, and we're in bed together?" he asked her, and smiled when she rolled her eyes. "The last time we were this close, I seem to remember a certain detective being rather flexible," he purred, and watched her blush. 

"You're such an ass," she said with a chuckle.

"Thank you!" he cheered, and stroked his fingers over the satin smoothness of her cheek. "What?" he asked when she dropped her forehead to his chest with a sigh.

"I didn't bring any clothes," she said, and he laughed when she groaned at herself.

"Let me take care of that," he told her, and nodded to the side when she looked up at him. "Go fetch a shower, and I'll have something waiting for you when you're done."

**~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~**

Mazikeen closed her eyes as she sat down on the couch and reached for her cell phone. Normally, she wouldn't be one to care about reporting an absence, but when she had picked Trixie up from school the day before, the office had made it clear that anything unexpected with a child was to be reported to them. She was almost angry at the mortals for needing such information, but dialed the school's number all the same. It didn't take her long to report Trixie's absence, and even less time to hang up on the nosy woman who wanted the details as to why.

" _Humans_ ," she spoke the word like a curse. 

Pinching the bridge of her nose, she closed her eyes and took in a deep breath as she sought to calm herself. No one had told her that Trixie was having nightmares, nor that they were so intense it would take almost five minutes to wake the screaming child. Eight separate times during the night, the girl had screamed out, and each time Mazikeen had to talk to her and shake her until she woke. She was exhausted, and she was a demon. The amount of sleep she needed was far less than what a mortal needed.

She felt it before she heard it. As though she had developed a sixth sense for the child's terror, every nerve in her body seemed to be electrified seconds before Trixie's terrified scream rang out from the guest bedroom. Mazikeen was up and off the couch before she had consciously made the decision to move, and was at the child's side a few seconds later. She wrapped her arms around the screaming girl and held her close, talking to her as she tried to comfort her, and carried her out into the main area of the penthouse. 

"I'm here, Trixie. I'm right here," Mazikeen soothed the distraught child when she began whimpering her name. "Shh," she whispered to Trixie, as she carried her over to the couch and sat down.

Mazikeen sighed as she kept the girl wrapped in her arms, and closed her eyes at the feel of Trixie's tears against her skin. Part of her wanted to return to Hell again just to torture Malcolm. Reaching for her phone, she hit the number for Lucifer's speed dial and waited for the call to connect. Tipping her head back against the couch, she listened to the electronic ring and felt her mind began to drift.

"Maze?" His voice called her back from the edges of sleep, and she groaned softly. "Did you pocket dial me?"

"No," she replied, her tired voice holding a hard edge. 

"What's happened?" he asked immediately, his tone alert and concerned.

"Do you have a few minutes?" she asked, cursing her own inept ability to soothe the girl in her arms.

"I'm alone, if that's what you're asking," he replied, and Maze sighed with relief. 

"I need you to talk to Trixie," she said, and was greeted with silence from Lucifer.

" _What's happened_?" he asked in a low growl, his tone deadly.

"She's not hurt," Mazikeen told him. "She's having nightmares. She just needs to hear your voice," she said, and heard him hum his reply.

"Give her to me," Lucifer commanded softly.

Mazikeen rubbed Trixie's back as she called her name softly to gain her attention. She met the girl's eyes when she lifted her face from where it was buried against her chest, and smoothed the pad of her thumb under the child's eye to dry her tears. Passing the phone to her without speaking, Mazikeen wrapped her arms around Trixie once more, and held her close as she relaxed back against the couch.

"Hello?" Trixie spoke softly, her trembling voice uncertain.

"Hello Moppet," Lucifer greeted. Trixie gasped softly before she whimpered and held the phone closer to her ear. "Oh, darling," he soothed her gently as she began to cry. "Tell me what's wrong," he asked of her.

Trixie bit her lip as she sniffled and tried to stop crying. Opening her mouth to speak, she began to sob anew, and held the phone to her ear as she buried her face against Mazikeen's shoulder. Lucifer spoke to her softly, telling her that he wouldn't let anything harm her, promising her he would always keep her safe. The more he comforted her, the more she cried. Her tears came faster when she heard him sigh, and feared that he would hang up, or tell her to stop crying as her father always had. Instead, he asked her to put the call on speaker and set the phone aside.

"Can you hear me, darling?" he asked her, and Trixie nodded before she remembered to speak. "Now, I may lose you," he said to her, and she heard the tell-tale ding of an elevator in the background. "But if I do, I will call you right back," he promised. 

He spoke to her for a few minutes longer as he rode the elevator, and she heard another ding before the doors opened. Lucifer never stopped speaking to her, even though Trixie knew he couldn't possibly want to keep her on the phone. How many times had her own father told her that there was nothing to cry about, and that a dream was just something to be forgotten?

"Are you still with me, Beatrice?" Lucifer asked after a few minutes.

She hummed her reply as she curled closer to Mazikeen. Trixie blinked tiredly when she felt the demon began to stroke her hair in long slow motions, and yawned softly against her shoulder. She felt Mazikeen kiss her hair, and sighed as she rubbed her eye with a small fist.

"All right, darling," he soothed, and she heard the soft scrape of something being moved. "Close your eyes for me," he bid of her. "That's my girl," he praised softly, even though she knew there was no way he could see that her eyes were, in fact, closed. "Try to sleep now," he said, and seconds later she heard the soft chords of a piano.

Lucifer played a collection of notes and chords before he settled into a song, and Trixie curled closer against Mazikeen as she cried quietly. He hadn't told her to stop crying. He hadn't told her to simply forget the dream, or that there was nothing to be afraid of. He hadn't ended the call, or just hung up the phone when she couldn't stop her tears. She clung to Mazikeen as she turned her face into the woman's chest and sobbed. He talked to her. He comforted her. He played the piano for her. 

That he had taken the time to try and comfort her, to give her whatever he could of himself, while not being able to actually be there with her, made her cry harder. She didn't understand why his caring hurt, but it did. She whimpered as he ended one song, the chords fading away, only to begin another. Blinking slowly as her tears died down to whimpers and sniffles, Trixie turned her head to rest her ear over Mazikeen's heart and sighed softly as sleep rose from the corners of her mind to claim her.

Mazikeen sighed after Lucifer played through a third song, and petted Trixie's hair in long slow strokes. She was exhausted herself, and for all the things she had tried throughout the hours of the night and morning, nothing had worked quite as well as what Lucifer had done. Picking up her phone from the couch, she took the call off speaker, and brought the device to her ear.

"She's out," she told Lucifer softly, and heard him play through the song to its conclusion. 

"How many times, Maze?" he asked her, and she sighed.

"Since getting her settled down for bed last night," she said, and blinked tiredly. "This most recent time made a total of nine."

Lucifer sighed, and she swore she could almost see him nod. "Tell me you've already called her in," he asked for confirmation.

"Almost an hour ago," she answered. "There was no way I'd let her out of my sight like this. Lucifer . . . what do we do about -"

"I don't know," he interrupted her softly. "Maze," he began, his tone holding a harder edge. "Did you have anything -"

"No," she answered fiercely before he could finish the question. "There's no way I would help your mother escape. The first thing she would do if she found out about Trixie, is kill her. I'd never put her in danger like that."

He was silent as he processed her words. "If it were a choice between Beatrice's life and yours?" he asked curiously.

"There would be no choice," she said softly, her voice holding a dangerous edge. "She's my friend."

"What's happened to us?" he asked her, his voice both amused and annoyed.

"I don't know," she answered, and looked up at the ceiling. "I'm a demon," she reminded him. "I'm not supposed to care about anything. So why do I care about her?"

"I don't think either her, or her mother, gave us much of a choice about caring for them," he told her, his tone somewhere between resigned and irritated. "They walked in, and all the rules changed."

"Damnit," Mazikeen cursed, and listened to Lucifer chuckle.

"We should be home this evening," he told her. "Keep care of her for me," he commanded her softly.

Mazikeen hummed her reply as her eyes fell closed, and heard Lucifer say something more as the phone slipped from her hand. She was too tired to notice it fall, too tired to care enough to pick it back up, and simply breathed in deeply as she gave into the exhaustion that consumed her.

**~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~**

Chloe closed her eyes as she stood under the hot spray of the shower, and lifted her face to the falling water. Her body was still humming from the kiss she'd shared with Lucifer, and as much as she wanted to cool the raging burn of her hormones, she welcomed the feeling instead. She'd never felt that kind of passion before, the overwhelming need to have someone touch her. If Lucifer hadn't pulled back after that kiss, she may not have stopped him at all.

She needed to get her head on straight. Now was not the time to be falling for him, or anyone else. She needed to stay objective, to stay strong. Everything in her life had taught her that being strong meant being alone, no one had ever her back, except . . . She sighed as she turned around and shampooed her hair. Lucifer had her back, he always had, even from the very beginning. He was the one person she didn't want to push away, but even with that, it was getting so much harder to keep her distance. 

"Especially after that kiss," she said, and tipped her head back to rinse her hair. "Oh yeah. I'm in trouble."

**~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~**

There was a part of her that wanted to refuse the clothing. Lucifer could see that easily in the way she kept staring at herself in the reflection of the glass, as though she wasn't sure who the woman staring back at her was. He watched her brow furrow for what had to be the hundredth time as she smoothed her hands down her flat stomach, trying to chase away wrinkles that only existed in her imagination. The suit she was dressed in was casual, classy, and clean cut. It was a pants suit with easy graceful lines much like the ones he had always seen her wear, except that the suit she wore now was Armani and made out of the finest Italian wool. And the garments she wore underneath the suit - Prada.

She hadn't brought any personal items with her at all, aside from her cell phone and wallet. He knew her, knew she wouldn't want to leave without make up, and had sent for a beautician from the hotel's spa. Her makeup had been expertly applied, her hair styled down around her face in a manner that was normal for her, but somehow softer. She had been pampered, primped and polished, and he knew the down to earth detective was having a little trouble reconciling the person she was used to seeing, with the reflection that stared back at her from the mirror. 

"You look ravishing, Detective," Lucifer purred, his voice low and seductive as he announced his presence to her. 

He tipped his head curiously as he watched her turn to stare at him. Her lips were parted, the expression on her face making it clear she wanted to say something, but words seemed to fail her. He chuckled silently as he realized he had finally, truly, surprised the good detective and left her gob smacked. He lifted his hand to her face, cupping her cheek in his hand as he stared into her eyes. He wanted to kiss her again, to taste her, but something inside of him whispered to him to be cautious. 

"You deserve the best, Chloe," he whispered to her, his gaze locked with hers. "You always have." Dropping his hand as he offered her a faint smile, he turned and reached for the file lying on the table. "Where shall we start?"

"I want to head over to the victim's last known address first," she told him, as she blinked rapidly to bring herself out of her stupor. "If I don't have to go into the police station here, I don't want to. There's no telling if anyone here is involved as well, and the less people who know I'm investigating this, the better."

"Expecting trouble, are we?" Lucifer asked, his brow arched.

"After what happened with Malcolm," Chloe said, her eyes darkening as they grew haunted with the memories. "The only people I know I can trust right now are you and Maze. I haven't even told Olivia what I'm looking into yet." She sighed heavily as she gathered her hair back into her usual ponytail and secured it with an elastic hair tie. "I feel like I'm about to fall down a rabbit hole," she confessed. 

"Well, don't worry. I'll be there to catch you, if you do," he promised her with his trademark grin.

He watched her gather the stack of papers on top of the case files, the sheets of hotel scratch paper containing notes she had made while he'd been downstairs in the hotel. The more he watched her, the more he realized that she was afraid. It wasn't just a momentary feeling, either. The fear wasn't abating, she wasn't putting it aside, or moving past it. She didn't seem to be able to process it, and it worried him. Chloe Decker was not a woman to be afraid. He'd seen her worried, even a touch rattled, but fear was a new emotion on her and he didn't like it. He studied her as he walked up to her, waiting for her to acknowledge him, but she didn't.

"Detective?" he called to her, and waved his hand in front of her blank stare. "Detective," he called a bit sharper, and waited for her to respond.

She jumped slightly and pulled back, swallowing thickly, and he narrowed his eyes as he frowned at her. He stepped closer slowly, recognizing what couldn't possibly be, and reached for her carefully. He kept his movements slow, making certain she could see him at all times, before he closed his arms around her. He knew fear, he knew terror, and that, what he had just witnessed from her, was a panic attack. Albeit a small one, but it happened nonetheless.

"You're safe," he whispered in her ear, his hand smoothing down the curve of her bound hair, from the top of her head to the band securing her locks. "Beatrice is safe with Maze," he reassured her. "I can have her call, if you'd like."

"I'm fine," Chloe said after a moment as she pulled away after a moment.

"You most certainly are not," he denied as he stared at her, challenging her to refute his claim. "What happened?"

He watched as she cupped her hand over her forehead. There was a spark of anger in her eyes, but the overwhelming look of confusion and loss in her gaze drown it out. She breathed in deeply, and as she opened her mouth to speak, he watched it happen again. He called her name as she stilled, demanded her to say something when she became unresponsive, and grabbed her shoulders to shake her gently when she suddenly snapped back and tried to push away from him.

"What's happening?" he asked her, refusing to let her go as he led her to the couch and sat down with her. "What are you seeing? Or thinking?" he asked, and watched her shake her head.

Small sounds came from her, nonsensical little noises as though she were trying to speak, but couldn't get the words out. He framed her face in his hands, and tilted her head up in order to look into her eyes. He could see the desperation, the fear, as she tried to force whatever she was thinking away to the back of her mind. She was more than a bit upset, and the harder she tried to suppress whatever it was, the stronger the attacks came at her.

"Talk to me," he implored, and watched as her eyes blinked slowly.

"I don't . . . I don't know," she said helplessly as she shook her head. "It feels like a memory," she said with confusion as she squeezed her eyes closed, her brow furrowing as though she were in pain. "But I can't . . . I can't see it clearly enough to make sense of it."

"Where is it coming from?" he asked patiently. "What triggers it?"

She shook her head, and whimpered as she pressed the heels of her hands against her temples as though she were in pain. He pulled her close when she folded in on herself, and reminded her to breathe. She stilled in his arms again, and he cursed as he moved to kneel on the floor in front of her. Her eyes were unfocused, her vision turned inward, and no matter how many times he called her name, she didn't respond.

"Kari Andrews," Chloe said after almost ten minutes, and Lucifer frowned in confusion.

"What?" he asked with a shake of his head as she met his gaze, her eyes bright and focused.

"The victim," she whispered, and stood from the couch.

He backed away to give her room to move, and followed her when she stepped over the table that held her bag. He watched her remove the case files, flipping through each folder until she found one roughly halfway down the pile. She stared at the open folder in her hands before shoving the file at him. He took the case file with a confused frown, and looked down at the picture of a young woman, roughly Chloe's age he would estimate, with strawberry blonde hair and impossibly bright green eyes.

"The case file has her name as Jessica Waters, but that woman is Kari Andrews," she told him. "We went to school together. We sat next to each other in our third grade class. We used to walk home together. Our houses were in opposite directions from the school, but we both lived close enough to walk home. One day, we were walking and I remember this . . . " Her brow furrowed as she tipped her head, and Lucifer knew that she was trying so hard to pull back into focus a memory she had almost forgotten. "Car? A van maybe?" she said as she shook her head. "It pulled up next to us as we were walking, and there was someone inside. I can't . . . Why is it so hard to remember?" she asked with frustration. "It's right there! I can feel it, but I can't see it! Why can't I see it?"

"Give yourself time, Detective," Lucifer told her. "Maybe . . . Tell me something about her. Not related to what happened, just something you remember about the girl."

Chloe laughed suddenly, the sound odd given the current topic, and met his gaze, her eyes filled with humor. 

"We used to carry these old plastic lunch boxes," she told him. "I had a fairy princess one, my mother's choice," she said with a roll of her eyes. "And she had Wonder Woman. I hated the frilly princess and she hated the tough as nails science woman who fought crime," she said with a laugh. "We had these little cubicles to put our things in, and each day she would put her lunch box in my cubicle and I would put mine in hers. I remember because her mom always made the best butterscotch cookies."

He watched her bite her lip as she smiled, the look in her eyes far away, but no longer troubled. He would never admit out loud how relieved he felt to see her laugh. His muscles relaxed under the power of her smile, only for new worry to fill him when her sadness returned.

"It was the last day of school before Spring Break," she told him, her voice subdued. "We were walking home, I used to play at her house all the time after school, at least until my mom remembered to pick me up, or daddy came for me after work." She fell silent as she bit her lip and shook her head as her eyes looked at something only she could see. "I could see the door of her house, we were that close, when a man pulled up in this old tan and brown station wagon. He said he'd lost his dog, and I remember telling Kari not to talk to him, Daddy had always told me never to talk an adult I didn't know, but she went up to the car."

"Detective?" he called to her when she remained silent.

"There was a boy in the backseat," she told him. "He was our age, I think. Maybe a little younger. He had an odd name, and his hair was this weird color. It was . . . It was growing out, that's why it looked so weird," she said as though discovering an answer to a long sought after question. "His hair was this kind of dishwater blond on top, and a weird dark reddish brown everywhere else. I remember there being something wrong with the man's face. When I was a kid, I thought he was a monster, but now . . . He had a scar from the edge of his left eye going all the way down to the edge of his mouth. The skin looked like it was folded over," she said slowly as she lost herself in the memory. "Kari disappeared that day," she said as she look at Lucifer. "She disappeared, and no one believed me because all I could remember was a monster."

"You were a child, Detective," he reminded her as he studied her. "But you remember now. Do you remember his face well enough to describe him for a sketch?" he asked her, and smiled when she nodded. "That's the spirit," he cheered, and led her to the couch as he turned over one of the pages of notes in the case file. "So tell me about this chap," he instructed as he brought a pencil to the blank side of the paper.

"Who knew the devil could draw?" she teased him, and laughed when he smiled brightly.

She paused more than a few times as she tugged on the memory, oftentimes rubbing her temples as though in pain, and spent the next thirty minutes telling him everything she could remember about the man. When she was done, he turned the file around, and watched her blue eyes widen as she nodded slowly. 

"That's him," Chloe whispered as she stared at the sketch. "That's the man who took Kari. If she was in L.A. all along, why didn't she ever try to contact me?"

"She may not have been able to," he told her as he looked at the information in the case file. "Have you looked through this? It says she was a known sex worker, but she had been arrested on multiple counts of prostitution since she was fourteen," he told her. "The man who took her may have done everything he could to make her forget her life before him. You were right to describe him as you did when you were a child, Detective. This man is a monster."

"You said her first arrest was when she was fourteen?" Chloe asked as she stood from the couch.

"Yes, why?" Lucifer asked as he watched her gather up the remaining files from the accent table, and bring them back to the couch with her.

"She wasn't the only one to be arrested, but I think she was only one of two, or three who had prostitution records," she told him as she started to flip through the files. "Here," she said, handing him two other files. "Karla Robertson, and Jenna Rodriguez. Both arrested for prostitution, both started to show up in our files between the ages of twelve to fourteen, but there are no birth certificates on file for either of them, and there are notes on the arrest records citing their names as aliases."

"You're thinking they were kidnapped, too," he said, and watched her nod. 

"And then there are these three," she said, and he took the files she handed to him. "Similar age for the start of their arrests, but their charges were for drug possession, and possession with the intent to sell."

"Rabbit hole is right," he mused as he studied the files. "Any other contenders?" he asked as he looked up from the information in his hands.

"The remaining nine victims appear to be normal civilians, except for one," she said, her tone distracted as she looked through the files. "Margaret Pierce," she read the name as she handed him the file. "She was a lawyer, damn good lawyer who did a lot of pro bono work for underprivileged communities. She was part of some kind of effort to clean up the neighborhoods and get the gangs out."

"Raped, beaten . . . what's this?" he asked as he frowned at the page. "S.F.O," he read, and shook his head as he looked at Chloe in confusion. 

"Sodomized with a foreign object," she said. "It's odd that they would have put the initials of the assault in there instead of listing it out," she said.

"There's another one, looks hand written," he told her. "A.W.C.C.?"

"Assaulted with chemical component," she said. "Wait let me see that," she said, and took the file back when he handed it to her. "They threw acid in her face to blind her. Whoever her attacker was, they made sure she couldn't identify him."

"Is she still alive?" he asked, his words darkened by an angry growl.

"No," Chloe said as she read over the file. "She died from complications of an infection to her optical nerve, as a result of the acid attack." She flipped through a few of the pages. "Oh God," she moaned in horror. "She was attacked by the same people who attacked her daughter. That's why it's only one file. She and her daughter were attacked at the same time in her office. But the daughter was nine and refused to testify."

"Nine?" he asked with a dangerous snarl.

"Just a year and a half older than Trixie," she said with a nod. "Lucifer . . ." She looked up and met his gaze, the tip of her pink tongue peeking out to wet her lips. "I've been thinking about talking to Maze about this since Trixie pretty much worships her, but . . . Do you think Maze could teach Trixie to fight? To protect herself?"

The smile he answered her with was slow and deadly, a dark seduction that promised danger and retribution.

"Trust me, Detective," he purred. "Under Mazikeen's instruction, your daughter could make any boy, or man kneel at her feet and fear her very presence."

"I'm not sure if I should be comforted, or worried," she told him, and he laughed.

"Perhaps a bit of both," he teased her. "I'll call her in a bit to set up Beatrice's training," he said with an approving nod. "For now though," he mused as he looked at the files spread on the low table between them, "we've a victim to talk to."

"Sarah Collins," Chloe said with a nod, and pulled a file out from the bottom of the stack. "She was a school teacher, third grade," she said, reading over the information in the file. "It says here that she worked outside of the school on nights and weekends, specifically with a lot of low income families, kids at risk for being involved with the local gangs. She would tutor them, and help them get into higher education, or trade school programs. From the incident report, it looks like the attack happened at school. She had stayed late to catch up on some work, and as far as she knew, it was only supposed to be her, and the janitor left in the school. She hasn't returned to the school since the attack happened."

"Detective?" Lucifer called to her when she fell silent, the blood drained from her face. 

"She could positively identify her attacker," Chloe said as she read over the information, and shook her head as horror filled her expression. "She knew him because she used to live next to him," she said, her eyes rising over the top of the file to meet his. "The police didn't take her seriously because he had been kidnapped when he was ten, and because the prints taken from the desk where he attacked her belonged to a known arms dealer. He's young, but the note here says he sells weapons and firearms to the local gangs, his most frequent customer being the Latin Kings."

Lucifer reached for the file and she handed it to him easily. He knew she had started this investigation as a way to tie up loose ends, but in the little time that he had worked on it with her, they had found a web of connections that made it bigger than she had been prepared for. His eyes narrowed as he flipped through the pages, and found a page of notes that had been torn away. The only bit of information that remained was a single line, a handwritten note that had been inscribed on the back of the torn paper.

"Who's A. Pal D?" Lucifer asked as he looked up from the file, and watched Chloe's eyes widen as her face paled.

"Daddy?" she whispered, as she met Lucifer's gaze. 

"Your father?" he asked, and watched her nod.

"Alvar Decker, but I remember the people he worked with, even his partner, used to call him Pal. They said it was short for Paladin. What?" she asked when he simply studied her, the expression on his face stunned and amused.

"Alvar," he spoke her father's name, and grinned. "It means 'truth speaker, guardian'. Paladin," he continued with a bit of a smirk, "means 'defender of a noble cause, warrior of the light'. I dare say, Detective, that you are more your father's daughter than you are your mother's."

Chloe chuckled and bit her lip as she looked at him. "Daddy would've liked you," she declared, and laughed as she turned her gaze upward. "He probably would've tried to scare you off," she mused as she met Lucifer's gaze, humor shining in both their eyes. "But he would've liked you."

"And Daniel?" he asked with amusement.

She made a noise, a sound that indicated her reluctant amusement. "I'm pretty sure Daddy would have scared him off and been successful. Daddy used to say that if any man I brought home didn't have the balls to stand up to him, and didn't have the strength to have my back even if I was wrong, then they had no business being anywhere near me."

Lucifer arched a brow, both amused and impressed by the memory of a man he'd never have the chance to meet. 

"I quite like this father of yours," he told her, and smiled when she laughed. 

"What did the note say?" she asked him quietly, as her amusement gave way to melancholy and curiosity. 

"It's just a number," he said, and read off the code. "What?" he asked when she grabbed her notepad and asked him for the number again.

"That's a case file. I'm pretty sure that's Daddy's case file," she said, and swallowed thickly. 

"What does that mean?" he asked with a shake of his head.

"It means - well, it could mean," she said, and took a deep breath, "that whatever information that page was supposed to hold could be either in Daddy's case file, or in a file from one of the cases he investigated. If someone did hide the information in there," she said, and her voice trailed off a her eyes lost focus. She took in a deep breath before meeting Lucifer's gaze once more. "They made sure it wouldn't be lost entirely."

"Detective?" he asked, needing her to clarify what she meant.

"If information goes missing from a case file, it means that someone was tasked with removing it. It doesn't just disappear on its own. But if the information was hidden among Daddy's files instead of being destroyed, it means whoever did it wanted the truth to be found. Found by someone who would pursue the truth as much as Daddy did."

"Someone like you," he reasoned, and watched her nod slowly, as her gaze once again became distracted. "Your father punished the wicked and fought for the innocent," he mused, and released a breathy chuckle as he studied her. "Let's go catch some bad guys," he told her, tucking the case file under his arm as he stood from the couch, and watched her rise as she tucked the remaining files back into bag and closed it.

"Lucifer." Chloe stopped him with a hand on his arm as she looked up to meet his gaze. "No matter what happens," she said, her jaw working as she tried to find the words to speak her thoughts. "Thank you . . . for believing in me."

The smile he bestowed upon her was affectionate, if not a little broken, and he nodded. "You've always believed in me," he returned. "You may not believe I'm the devil," he said with amusement. "But you've always believed in the man," he told her.

He watched her bite her lip, and felt his heart skip a beat under the weight of her stare. She believed he was a good man, believed in the person behind the devil, and for her he was the angel he had once been. It shook him to the core to realize that since meeting her, he had been closer to the angel he had forgotten than the devil he had become. He realized then why he had always been reluctant to let her touch his scars, especially the first time she had seen them. 

She saw through his mask, through his easy confidence, down to the truth that lay below. It wasn't just the devil who wanted her, or Lucifer. She tugged on the long buried parts that remained of Samael. The angel who believed in the benevolence of beautiful things. The angel who was beloved by his father. The same angel who had been wounded more deeply than words could express when he had been cast out. She saw every piece of him, and still she welcomed him in. This fragile mortal woman, the one he had given his life for, was able to heal the parts of him that were broken.

"Are you alright?" she asked, and he shook himself from his thoughts as he pushed back the emotions that burned through him.

"I'm fine," he answered, his voice thick, and followed her out of the hotel room.

**~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~**

"Are you kidding me?" Chloe whispered in righteous anger as she stared up at the blazing apartment building.

No one had been able to tell them where the fire had begun exactly, but the entire floor of the building the victim resided on was in flames. Windows were shattering with the heat of the inferno that raged inside. There were still people trapped within the flames, children screaming from windows as their parents were carried out forcibly by firefighters. She was raging inside as she stared at the building, and felt the last piece of her control break.

"Detective?" Lucifer called after her when she walked away.

She didn't turn around, or respond to him, too angered by what had happened to speak, and shook her head when she heard him chase after her. She felt too fragile, too enraged, too - _everything_ to be calm. She didn't think about what she was doing, or the damage it would cause, when she lashed out and punched the closest thing to her. That the object she had hit was a tree, offered only slightly more give than the concrete wall behind it, but still she felt something in her hand snap, and cried out as she growled and cradled her injured hand.

"Probably not the best of ideas," Lucifer chided, as he stepped in front of her and gently took her hand in his. "I think you broke it," he told her with a wince of sympathy as he stared at her bloodied knuckles, the bruising around her knuckles quickly turning her pale skin a mottled purple.

"How many people did they kill? How many lives did they tear apart, just to hide what they did?" she asked him furiously, meeting his gaze. 

He was as upset as she was, though she had to admit that he was doing a far better job of keeping himself in control. His eyes were furious, but the rest of him seemed as relaxed and confident as he always was. She watched him as he pulled in a deep breath, tipping his chin up as he looked at something behind her.

"We've got ourselves a watcher," he told her, keeping his voice low. "He was outside our hotel, too. The chap by the coffee shop."

"What?" Chloe asked alarmed, and turned to look for their tail, only to have Lucifer still her by grasping her shoulders.

"Best not to let him know we're aware," he said as he returned his gaze to hers. "Let's get your hand looked at," he instructed as he turned, and wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

"Lucifer," Chloe said his name in warning, wanting to turn back and confront whoever was following them.

"Keep moving, Detective," he instructed her as he led her away from the scene. "Whoever this chap is, he's been following one, or both of us, for awhile. The last thing either of us want is to get more innocent people killed. If we confront him here that's exactly what will happen."

He could feel the fire of her rage as he held her, delighted in the way it made her soul shine and glow like so many bright stars. She wanted to turn and confront the man, maybe even beat him up a little, and as much as the thought of watching her do so excited him, he knew he couldn't let her. At least not here. The man that was still following them posed a threat of some kind, and he wanted to know exactly what kind of threat that was. Was he there to stop Chloe from investigating the corruption cases? Was he there to get her alone to do her harm?

"Detective Decker!" the man called from behind them as Lucifer turned the corner with Chloe still tucked under his arm.

"Bobby?" Chloe called back as she stopped to turn around. "Lucifer, is this who's been following us?" she asked softly, and the devil nodded. 

"Special Agent Robert Grace," the man introduced himself to Lucifer as he came to a stop in front of them. "Or, Bobby," he said, and grinned at Chloe. "Hellfire and I went to school together," he said, and Lucifer turned to Chloe with wide eyes and a bright smile.

"Hellfire?" he repeated the nickname with glee as he stared at her. "Really?"

"Oh yeah," Bobby said with a laugh. "Girl had no problems taking bullies down a peg, or two. Even if those bullies happened to be teachers. She earned that nickname. But then school ended, she tried her hand at movies, and I went into the Navy. Though, I did hear you punched out a director, and an agent," he teased her.

"Hellfire indeed. Lucifer likes," he purred as he let his eyes roam over the woman in question.

"You're not helping," Chloe told him, before turning her attention on her friend. "Why are you following us?"

Bobby nodded back to the burning building. "Sarah Collins," he spoke the victim's name. "She was supposed to testify in a Federal case, but then she was attacked. And now," he said as he looked back over his shoulder at her building. "She's most likely dead. I won't know for certain until we get full reports from the local PD, coroner, and fire marshal, but something tells me that's why you're here," he said, and fixed his gaze on Chloe.

"I wanted to talk with her about the attack. There were some things that didn't add up," Chloe answered, giving her friend only an overview of her true investigation. "What case was she going to testify in?"

"We need to talk about this somewhere else," Bobby said, and looked around. "There's no way I'm willing to believe that fire was an accident."

"Our hotel, or yours?" she asked, and Bobby grinned. 

"After you, Hellfire," he said, and winked at her. 

Chloe shook her head, her face a mask of annoyance. "You just had to call me that, didn't you?" she asked him, and the man laughed.

"Oh you're still Hellfire," he said, taking note of how amused Lucifer seemed to be by the moniker. He turned his attention to Lucifer. "You know, they used to say that only the Devil himself would be able to go toe-to-toe with her."

Lucifer barked with laughter. "Is that so?" he asked salaciously as he turned his attention back to Chloe. "My my, Detective. All the naughty things I'm learning about you."

"Oh," she growled, and narrowed her eyes on Lucifer. "I want to hit you."

Lucifer chuckled as he stared down at Chloe, delighting in the way her cheeks flushed with her rising ire. "Tease," he purred. "Do it. Always did like it a bit rough."

"Ass," she cursed him as she turned around, blushing at the sound of his laughter.


	4. Chapter 3

AN: Lucifer and all recognizable characters belong to Jerry Bruckheimer and FOX television. Set post 'Take Me Back to Hell'.

 

Summary: There is only one thing that can make an immortal vulnerable, only one thing that can hurt an angel aside from another angel - their mate. It was only a rumor, a baseless myth, something Amenadiel had never believed, until it happened to Lucifer.

**Memento Mori**

Chapter 3

by WhisperingWolf

Chloe sat next to Lucifer on the couch in the visiting area of their suite. Her hand had been bandaged, the X-Rays showing nothing more serious than a hairline fracture of her first and second knuckles. The attending physician had advised caution and prescribed a mild pain reliever for her, but Chloe had yet to fill the prescription. Lucifer looked at Chloe, watching her curiously as she spoke with her friend. He had thought it best to let her lead the conversation, and found it both interesting and a bit suspicious that she kept the information about her investigation to a minimum. She only spoke of Sarah, as though her case was the only one she was looking into.

"Hellfire," Bobby interrupted her, and took in a deep breath before he released it in a heavy sigh. "The other reason I'm here, the reason I've been following you, is this," he said, and handed her a well worn piece of paper.

Lucifer looked at the paper over her shoulder, the heavy creases telling of how often it had been unfolded and refolded. The letter was handwritten, the ink faded, and he glanced up at her face when he heard Chloe's gasp. He watched her face pale as her eyes widened. She was blinking quickly, a tell-tale sign that she was trying to force back whatever emotion had overtaken her.

"Detective?" he called to her, and met her gaze when she looked up at him.

"Daddy wrote this," she whispered, and let him take the letter, her gaze startled.

_Robert,_

_I know you're going into the Navy, at least that's what your father told me. You know I'm a practical person, and I don't put much stock in faith, or religion, but I met a woman two days ago while working on a case. Of all things, she was a gypsy. Not some new age free spirit, but old school Romani. I can't get what she said out of my mind. 'Your daughter will excel where you have failed, and she will finish what you have started'. That's it, that's all she said. I know Chloe's been cast in a movie, but if what that old woman said is true, and Chloe becomes a cop, protect her._

_That old woman also told me that the 'cross-bearers' have it wrong. The Devil isn't someone to be feared. He doesn't corrupt, or harm the innocent. The Devil's job is to punish the wicked. If that's true, if there is such a thing as the Devil and his job is to punish the guilty, may he protect my little girl. God has no place in what I've been looking into. He abandoned this world a long time ago. I'm doing my damndest to get justice for these people, and make these monsters answer for what they've done._

_Protect her._

_~ Alvar_

"I have no idea what your dad was looking into," Bobby told her. "He never said anything other than that, and didn't leave anything behind. But I know you, and I have a feeling that Sarah is just the tip of the iceberg for you," he told Chloe, and handed her his business card. "The number on the back is a burner cell I have. The only person to ever answer it is me, and no one knows I have that phone. When you're ready to talk to me about whatever it is you're looking into, give me a call." He stood from his seat, and nodded to both her and Lucifer in turn. "It was nice to meet you both. Hellfire," he spoke her name, and turned his attention to Lucifer. "I didn't catch your name."

"Lucifer," he said, and smiled wickedly. "Morningstar."

" _Lucifer Morningstar_?" Bobby repeated incredulously, his brows high on his forehead. "So Hellfire found the Devil after all," he said with a chuckle, and turned to leave.

"Bobby," Chloe called to him, as she turned to look at him over the back of the couch. "You didn't say what case Sarah was supposed to testify in.

He stood at the door with his hand on the knob, and took a deep breath as he turned to meet her gaze.

"She was testifying against the arm of the Gutierrez Cartel that's here in California," he told her with a sigh. "There was kid in her class that had been transferred in. There was evidence of abuse on the boy, and she found drugs in his bag. Instead of reporting him into the office, she contacted me . . . We dated for awhile almost five years ago, and she knew I was FBI."

"Where's the boy now?" Chloe asked, and glanced at Lucifer when she felt the heat of his stare.

"All she had been willing to tell any of us, was that he was safe. There's an underground of sorts for abuse victims. They have a sixth sense for cops, and don't generally trust law enforcement. No one knows how to get in contact with them," he told her, and looked down. "That's the part of the attack that she left out of the report," he said, and looked to Lucifer. "Her rape wasn't a random attack." He sighed heavily. "It was an interrogation," he said, and glanced at Chloe. "That's why the information she provided in the original police report didn't add up. She couldn't say anything about the Gutierrez case. Whatever her attackers were hoping to get, they didn't. Sarah was a lot like you, Hellfire. She couldn't be broken."

Bobby turned back to the door, and pulled it open before he stepped into the hall. He turned back as he held the door, and locked eyes with Lucifer. 

"Protect her," he said, and waited for Lucifer's nod before he closed the door. 

"He was quite an interesting chap," Lucifer mused, giving the ending 'p' a rather pronounced pop, after Bobby had left them. "All the stories he could tell about you," he purred as he breathed in, and studied the woman next to him wickedly. "Hellfire," he let the nickname roll off his tongue with a growl. "Suits you, Detective."

"You are nothing but trouble," she told Lucifer sternly as her annoyance gave way to amusement. "I haven't seen Bobby in years. I didn't even know he was FBI," she said, and looked down at the card in her hands.

"Do you trust him?" Lucifer asked curiously, and watched Chloe frown as she turned the card over in her hands.

"I honestly don't know who I trust right now, except for you and Maze," she told him, her voice soft. "They set fire to the _entire floor_ of an apartment building," she said with disbelief and sorrow for the victims. "Killing her wouldn't get them any closer to finding the child that she hid. What did she know that they were so desperate to keep quiet?"

"Seems we've another mystery to solve," he told her, his brows high on his forehead as he nodded to himself. "What shall we do next . . . Hellfire?" he asked, teasing her wickedly with her old nickname.

"Don't you start," Chloe growled at him, smiling as she laughed, though the annoyance she felt was still in her eyes. "Bobby only started calling me that because I laid into another kid who was being a dick to him. Kid wouldn't stop, so I decked him," she said matter-of-factly, and Lucifer gasped in delighted.

"Really, Detective?" he asked her with surprise and pleasure. "Always been a fighter, ey?"

"Did you ever have any doubt?" she asked him, a grin playing at the corners of her mouth.

"None," he said with confidence. 

He watched her eyes droop as she began to blink slowly, and took in a deep breath as he wrapped his arm around her. He smiled as he watched her try to shake off the exhaustion she felt, and took her with him as he leaned back against the couch. She was plaint in his arms as he tucked her against his side, and dropped a kiss to her hair as he held her. It was barely past one-thirty in the afternoon, but he had known from her constant distraction, and shortness of temper, that she was still tired. 

His phone call with Mazikeen from earlier that morning was still heavy in his mind. The sound of Trixie's tears, the knowledge gained from the demon watching over her that the child had been waking repeatedly with violent nightmares. Chloe needed this time away to recharge, and he would do his best to make certain both mother and child were taken care of. The same independence that he loved and respected about her, was an attribute he had come to learn came from never having anyone there to be on her side, or to help her when she needed them. He was here now, and so was Mazikeen, he thought as he kissed her hair.

"It's alright," he spoke to her softly, soothing her with his voice. "Sleep for awhile," he bid of her.

"The case . . ." she argued drowsily.

"Will still be there when you wake," he finished for her.

"That's not fair," she slurred softly when he began to sing a low crooning tune.

He hugged his arm around her shoulders, holding her tight before relaxing his arm as he continued to sing. Normally a lively bluesy song, he had changed the pace and lowered the octaves to turn it into a makeshift lullaby. He felt her grow heavy against him as she lost the battle, and smiled as he fell silent when it was clear she was asleep. He stayed seated with her held against his side for a few minutes more, before he stood carefully and carried her into the bedroom. 

Lucifer hushed her gently as he lowered her to the bed, and removed her shoes and jacket. He was careful not to wake her as he released her hair from the ponytail she'd kept it in, and smiled softly at the sight of her dark blonde locks cascading freely around her. Bending down over her, he pressed a kiss to her brow and covered her with the light blanket folded over the end of the bed. He studied her silently as he stood next to the bed, memorizing the way she looked. His smile was bittersweet as he reached out to touch her cheek. A moment later, he left her to sleep, and pulled the door behind him until it was almost closed. 

He stood silently just outside the door facing the main sitting area of the suite, and frowned. There was something that bothered him, had been nagging at him for hours, and he narrowed his eyes as he moved to retrieve the detective's attaché case. He searched through the files until he came to the one marked as Jessica Waters, and opened the case as he sat down on the couch. He looked through the information a second and third time, studying each document closely as he looked for exactly what it was that was bothering him.

The answer wouldn't be found in the files. He realized in that moment that it wasn't the case itself that bothered him, rather it was the detective's suppressed memories that did. How could she forget something so significant? It didn't make sense . . . unless. He sat back as his eyes widened slightly. Unless someone made her forget. Reaching into his pocket for his phone, he opened his contacts and called the one person he truly hadn't thought he'd be talking to again so soon.

"Lucifer?" the woman greeted him, and he flipped a page in the case file as he tucked the phone between his ear and shoulder.

"Dear Linda, I've a question for you," he said as he stared at the incident report from the victim's attack. Something in it just didn't make sense, but he couldn't put his finger on what it was. "Is it possible to suppress the memory of an event so deeply that a person forgets everything about the event, including the people in the memory?" 

She was silent for a moment, before she hummed softly. "I suppose it is," she answered him thoughtfully. "But it all depends on the trauma of the event, the age of the victim, and how the people closest to the person reacted to the event. Are suppressed memories resurfacing for you?" she asked him, and Lucifer set the file aside.

"Not for me," he told her. "Detective Decker," he said, and sighed. "There's a victim from a case we're working on, someone that she knew in her childhood. The girl was kidnapped when she was young, and resurfaced recently in this case. Chloe was with her when she was kidnapped, but she didn't remember anything about the girl before now. The woman is dead, but the detective has been troubled by the bits of the memory she has recovered. It seems they were close."

"Suppressed memories can be unpredictable, Lucifer," she warned him. "She may begin experiencing symptoms of PTSD . . . nightmares, panic attacks, moments of lost time, just to name a few," she told him. "Keep an eye on her, and let her know she can call me at anytime if she needs, or wants to."

"I will," he said with a pout. "One more," he said. "The case we're working, some of the victims were kidnapped between the ages of eight and ten, and then resurfaced when they were twelve or fourteen. They went from normal children to sex workers, or drugs and arms dealers," he said, providing the facts as he left the question unspoken.

"That isn't a long period of time to reprogram the kids," she mused, her tone troubled. "That goes beyond Stockholm Syndrome, and into something more like Cult Programming. Let me look into a few things," she told him. "I read about a case from almost twenty years ago where a kidnapped child was reprogrammed. She broke away from her kidnappers after two years, but killed herself shortly after being reunited with her family. I'll see if I can find the case for you."

"How was it done?" he asked her, and heard the sound of books being moved around.

"That's the part I remember most," she said, her tone darker, angry and pained. "Shortly after being kidnapped, she was locked into a steamer trunk. Her kidnapper kept her blind folded and bound, only letting her out once every few hours to go to the bathroom. The first three days he denied her food, and then slowly gave it back to her at very small amounts at a time. He called her by a different name, until she didn't remember her own name. The whole first month he had her he kept her blindfolded, and didn't remove it once; not even when she was instructed to take a shower, or bath. Ah, here it is" she said with triumph. "I can drop the book off by LUX," she offered.

"I'm not there right now, but Maze is," he told her. "What else do you remember?" he asked as he reached for a pen, and began to write on the pad of hotel paper.

"The one thing that stood out the most was the lack of violence from her kidnapper," she said. "He didn't hit her, didn't molest her, but instead used isolation, sensory deprivation, and food as the tools for reprogramming her. He kept her locked in the steamer trunk, or a makeshift coffin under the bed. Kept her blindfolded and bound. She had no ability to judge the passing of time, and what may have been only a few hours in reality, could have seemed like days to her. He also denied her food, drink, and at times, even sleep. He made her completely dependent on him for everything."

Lucifer's eyes flashed red as he listened to her speak. There may have been no violence, but the kidnapper was a monster all the same. The isolation of the victim would be far more damaging than physical abuse, as it would force the victim's mind to create a new reality around it. A new world to make sense of the separation and abandonment. 

"From what you've said," she offered in warning as their conversation came to close, "it sounds like you're dealing with more than one kidnapper. You may be dealing with an entire ring, and if you are, this is a business to them. Be careful, Lucifer. There's no telling what may happen if they feel their business is being threatened."

"Is there anything specific you believe they might do?" he asked curiously.

Linda sighed. "They would see the children as a product of sorts," she told him. "They may try to kill the ones that haven't been fully reprogrammed, if they believe their business is in danger. A defective product, or dead child could be replaced easier than trying to rebuild and relaunch an entire business."

Lucifer was silent as he felt his eyes burn. "If they took a rather strong-willed child, one that they weren't able to reprogram?" he asked, leaving the question only half spoken.

"They most likely would have killed the child. The victim would have known too much to be allowed to live," she said, confirming his suspicions.

He couldn't silence the growl that built low in his throat. "Thank you," he offered for her insight.

"You're welcome, and if there's any other assistance you need with this case, please do reach out."

He ended the call as he sat on the sofa and stared at the file in his hands. Why did he have the feeling that this case was going to get very ugly very fast?

**~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~**

Trixie sniffled as she wiped the back of her hand against her cheek to dry her tears, and padded barefoot through the penthouse. Lucifer and her mother were still gone. Mazikeen had fallen asleep, and she had no wish to wake the woman. Mazikeen was her friend, Trixie thought miserably, and all she had done was wake her. If she could make her nightmares stop, she would, but she didn't know how. Blinking tiredly as she walked out onto the patio, she sat down next to the clear wall separating the penthouse from the open sky. 

It was strange to see the buildings like this, the girl thought as she leaned her temple against the glass barrier. She was so high up, and the world looked so different. The clouds seemed touchably close, and the sounds of the city that always seemed to be too loud, were now almost an afterthought. Blinking slowly as she hugged her knees to her chest, Trixie looked up when a shadow fell over her.

"Mena?" she asked, her vision slightly blurred, as she rubbed her eye with a balled up fist. "That's your name right?" she asked tiredly as the tall man bent down to lift her up against his shoulder.

"Amenadiel," he corrected her, and smiled at the child in his arms. "But you can call me Mena," he told her as if it were a secret. 

Trixie hummed softly. "Lucifer said you're his brother," she reminded him. "Are you an angel like he is?" she asked as she curled against him.

"I am," he affirmed with a small sound of amusement. 

"Pretty," Trixie praised softly, the word a bit slurred, when he spread his wings enough for her to see the dark feathers. 

Amenadiel moved over to sit on the couch with Trixie. His lips pulled up at one corner as he remembered how Mazikeen had simply dumped him on the couch after he'd been stabbed. She was coarse, and all rough edges, but she was his demon. He stilled for a moment as he leaned back against the leather furniture, and wrapped his wings around Trixie without noticing he'd done so. 

When had he started to think of Mazikeen as his, he wondered. She was Lucifer's demon, his brother's guardian and most feared warrior. He petted Trixie's hair when the child curled closer to him with a sigh, and held her closer as he felt her toy with a few of his feathers. What was between himself and Mazikeen was complicated to say the least. He wasn't sure where emotion fit into the mix of it all for her. Did she actually feel anything for him? Did she feel anything at all?

Amenadiel sighed as he closed his eyes. That had been unfair, and he knew it. Perhaps, it had only been a thought, and not spoken out loud, but he knew her better than that. Mazikeen had emotions. Hell, that woman had a whole army of emotions, she was just afraid of most of them. Loyalty, lust, anger, vengeance, an almost insatiable desire for violence, those were the emotions that she was used to. They were all she had felt in Hell, all she had needed to feel. But here on earth?

Everything was new and confusing to her. Loyalty had been divided into its basic parts and reconstructed to now include them in the new fusion of what the emotion had become. Loyalty was no longer a blind sense of purpose, or duty for her. Now, it held affection, devotion, friendship, compassion, even love. The softer the emotion, the more threatening it was for her. She was confused, he thought, and scared. Mazikeen was changing, and she had no idea what to do, or how to stop it.

He looked up at the sound of quick footsteps, and an almost relieved sounding sigh. Amusement toyed at the corners of his mouth as he looked over Mazikeen. He couldn't help the chuckle that sounded from him at the sight of her mussed hair and bleary gaze. She looked like she'd been startled awake, and he laughed quietly at the thought of it.

"Rough night?" he asked her with amusement, and watched her gaze fall to rest on the child tucked in his arms and wings.

"You could say that," Mazikeen said as she moved to the bar. 

"Do you and Lucifer always start out your mornings with alcohol?" he asked curiously as he watched her sip at the whiskey she'd poured herself. 

She turned to stare at him silently, her eyes meeting his over the rim of her glass, and arched a single brow. _So what if we do?_ her expression seemed to say. He smiled at her as he stood from the couch, keeping care not to wake the child in his arms, and stepped toward her as he tucked his wings back and willed them to be unseen. 

"She's been screaming herself awake," Mazikeen said as she turned back toward the bar to pour herself another drink. 

"Trixie?" Amenadiel asked as he looked down at the child in his arms.

"Yes," Mazikeen answered with a sigh. "In the past twelve hours, I think she's had a collected total of ninety minutes of actual sleep. Everything else has been nightmares."

"Which means that you've had less sleep," he said, and met her gaze when she stared at him through narrowed eyes. 

"Malcolm had her," she told him, and closed her eyes before looking at the sleeping child in his arms. "He didn't hurt her, but he toyed with her. She won't tell any of us what he said, but her nightmares are constant." She downed the remainder of the whiskey in her glass before setting the empty cup aside and looked at him. "Demons and angels only need a few hours of sleep, but Chloe? She's mortal," Mazikeen said, before growling at herself for her show of concern. "This is your fault," she suddenly snarled at him. "I _didn't care_! I _never_ cared, and then _you_ ," she growled at him as she advanced on him. "You waltz into the picture, and suddenly _all I do_ is care."

"You're changing, Maze," Amenadiel told her, his tone a mix of patient amusement, and empathy. "You're evolving."

"Well, make it stop!" she demanded of him, and growled when he laughed. "I didn't ask for this - this - _whatever the hell_ this is!" 

"It doesn't make you any less yourself," he told her, and wrapped his wings around himself when the child in his arms shivered and whined in her sleep. "It just means that now," he said, and looked down at Trixie before meeting Mazikeen's gaze once more. "You understand what's important, and instead of simply having a will to punish, you possess a desire to protect."

"Oh, yeah, cause that makes it all better," she told him sarcastically, and he laughed.

"Just give it time," he told her, and opened his wings as he stepped toward her. "There are a few things I need to deal with," he said as he gently passed the sleeping girl to Mazikeen. "I don't know when I'll be back."

Amenadiel studied Mazikeen for a moment, watching as she stood silently with Trixie in her arms. The girl's dark hair and light mocha skin could easily make her look like she was born from the woman who held her. Mazikeen was a demon though, and while he didn't have a full understanding for her physiology, he didn't think bearing children was a part of that. Though, he doubted she would want to have a child even if she could. He watched them for a moment longer before he turned away and stepped toward the balcony.

Spreading his wings, he breathed in deeply as he felt the air stir his feathers. He disappeared from the building, the air stirring behind him as he left. Of all people, of all things, why had he fallen for a demon? What would Father say about him now?

**~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~**

Lucifer stepped into the bedroom of the hotel suite quietly, and sat down on the bed beside Chloe. It had been almost five hours since she had fallen asleep in his arms and he had carried her in here, and she was still sleeping deeply. He reached out to smooth her hair away from her face, and brushed the backs of his fingers down her cheek. Why hadn't she told him about her daughter's nightmares, he wondered. Did she think he wouldn't care, or was her daughter's fear something she had always been left to deal with alone?

He had wanted to give her ex the benefit of doubt, not for her sake, but for Trixie's. Yet at each and every turn, he had watched the man care and respond only when it suited him to do so. Nightmares, and a crying frightened child were two things he very much doubted Detective Douche ever had the time for. Glancing down to stare at her bound hand, Lucifer lifted Chloe's injured knuckles to his lips and kissed them softly as he pushed just enough of his energy into her to speed the healing process.

The injury would still be there, but the bruising would be far less, and her pain almost absent. It was a small thing, something he didn't believe she would notice, or pay much mind to, but it soothed him. Why did she have to be the one to get beneath his skin, he asked himself. No matter who, or what had tempted him, he had been able to deflect it all without much attention paid. But her? She was attracted to him, that much he did know, but she was immune to his charms. She wouldn't simply fall into his arms like all the countless other women had. 

Chloe groaned softly, the sound barely more than a rough breath of air as he watched her eyes open slowly. She was still tired, exhausted would be a better description, he thought as he studied her. He teased her with an arch of his brow when she looked up at him. He waited for her to speak, to chase him from the room even, but she did neither. His name on her lips was little more than a whisper, and he soothed her, promising her he was there when she called his name again.

"Just sleep, Chloe," he bid of her when her eyes fluttered closed. 

Lucifer stayed by her side a few moments longer, standing from the bed only when he was certain she was asleep once more. Leaving the room quietly, he closed the door behind him and stared out at the empty suite. Keeping himself entertained was usually when he got himself into the most trouble. He grinned at the knowledge of it, knowing that it had more to do with his disdain for being idle than it did anything else. 

"Too bad they didn't put a piano in the room," he thought aloud, as he donned his suit jacket and left the suite.

It didn't take him long to reach the ballroom where the grand piano sat. The room itself was empty, but he didn't mind. Moving toward the instrument, he removed his phone from his pocket and sat down on the bench. There had been no plan in place to make the call, but he found himself holding the phone up to his ear all the same. His lips tugged up at the side when the call rang through to voicemail, and he hoped it meant the child was finally sleeping.

"Hello Beatrice," he greeted as he left the voicemail. "I know that everything's a bit frightening for you right now, but darling, I promise that you will make it through this. I may not be there right now, but perhaps this will bring you some comfort," he said, and turned the call on speaker as he set the phone down on the closed lid of the piano.

Pushing back the black wooden cover that hid the ivory and ebony keys, he brought his hands to the instrument and began to play. At first the collection of notes was just part of a wordless song he had hummed to the child a few times before. It changed after awhile, and he sang through one of Trixie's favorite songs. His voice trailed off as the song came to an end, and he let the piano fade into silence as he lifted his phone.

"Sleep well, Moppet, and remember . . . You are best friends with the Devil. Should anyone be fool enough to mess with you, they will answer to me," he said, and disconnected the call.


	5. Chapter 4

AN: Lucifer and all recognizable characters belong to Jerry Bruckheimer and FOX television. Set post 'Take Me Back to Hell'.

 

Summary: There is only one thing that can make an immortal vulnerable, only one thing that can hurt an angel aside from another angel - their mate. It was only a rumor, a baseless myth, something Amenadiel had never believed, until it happened to Lucifer.

**Memento Mori**

Chapter 3

by WhisperingWolf

Chloe grimaced at the feel of her racing heartbeat, the rhythm too hard and too fast to gain any semblance of control over. Her breaths were coming in desperate pants, her lungs unable to capture enough of the much needed air to support her. She felt nauseous from the pounding in her skull, and the wider she opened her eyes, the less she was able to see. Fear was an emotion she was usually able to swallow, but now it seemed to be swallowing her instead. 

She felt hands grab her arms, the strength of the hold too much to escape. There was nothing but darkness all around her, and she whimpered at the pain in her wrists and hands from the efforts she had made to free herself. She was bound, she realized absently, and cried out at the sudden change in equilibrium. Something hard was beneath her, and the more she tried to fight, the more restricting the hold became. 

_I'm being carried?_ she thought with confusion, realizing absently that her blindness was due to something covering her eyes. She cried out as she tried to fight against her captors, and was rewarded with a strike to her cheek for the effort. Where was she? Who had her? And why in the hell did she feel so small? 

_"Chloe."_

Her brow furrowed as she struggled to breathe, fought to get away. That voice that whispered to her, she knew that voice, didn't she? Why did it sound so far away? Where _was_ she? 

_"Chloe. Darling, come back to me."_

She whimpered as her fear overwhelmed her, and began to cry. She felt unaccountably vulnerable, and strangely young. Nothing made sense to her. She wanted to get away, to go to wherever that voice was. Somewhere inside of her, she knew that the voice meant safety. If she could just get away, but the bonds were too tight. She flinched back at the touch to her face, the feel of the hand barely there, but startling all the same. 

_"Shhh. Darling, I promise you're safe. I'm right here with you."_

Who was that? Who did that voice belong to? If she could answer that question, she could get away. She screamed at the feeling of being lowered into something, her body being forcibly folded in order to make her fit in the small space. The bonds around her wrists were weakening, and seconds later she had freed herself. She lashed out with as much strength as she could muster, only to cry out in surprise when her wrist was caught in a strong, but gentle hold.

_"Chloe, please. You're safe. I promise you're safe."_

She whimpered in misery as her tears came faster. That voice. She knew that voice. _Say his name_ , her mind demanded of her. _Say his name, and you'll be free. Just say his name._ But she didn't know his name. The voice was familiar, it was safe, but she couldn't remember who it belonged to. Her fear grew, panic turning to blind terror as she fought desperately to get away. Something was being closed over top of her and she couldn't let it happen again. 

Chloe screamed as she lashed out, trying to kick her way to freedom. Her efforts were thwarted easily, and she felt herself being moved, held in someone's lap as her arms and legs were gently restrained. She cried out again as the voice called to her, begged her to wake up, but she wasn't asleep. She couldn't be asleep. This was all too real, and that voice . . . She gasped as the name came to her, a beacon of hope in the darkness of her terror.

"Lucifer," she gasped his name, as she whimpered in fear.

 _"I'm here. I'm right here_ ," he promised her as her breathing grew more shallow, her struggles becoming more desperate as she fought to get to him. "I'm right here," he said again, and she sobbed at the way his voice sounded louder. "Open your eyes, darling," he begged of her, his voice next to her ear, close enough for his breath to rustle her hair. 

She sobbed as she fell still, her struggles coming to an end, and felt herself being moved once again. The restriction of her arms and legs vanished as she was turned and held against a man's chest. She sobbed as she clung to the familiar warmth, the comforting scent, and felt his hand pet her hair as he rocked her. The last of her dream fell away as she cried, her tears aching and hot, as she felt him press a kiss to her hair, and another to her damp cheek.

"That's it, love," Lucifer soothed her, rocking her as he sat on the bed holding her in his lap. "I've got you. You're safe, darling. You're safe. Shhh."

She blinked tiredly against his shoulder as her sobs died down to quiet tears. Her head hurt terribly, and as she spoke his name one last time, she felt her exhaustion over take her. She was safe. Lucifer was there with her, holding her. He wouldn't let anything hurt her, he never had. He would keep her safe. She fell limp in his arms as sleep rose up from the darkness to claim her mercilessly. 

Lucifer sighed in relief as he leaned back against the headboard of the bed, and held Chloe securely in his arms. His eyes closed as he tipped his head back, and lifted one hand to rub over his face. This was the third nightmare she'd suffered since he'd returned to the hotel room. When he had left her, she'd been sleeping peacefully, but when he had opened the door of their suite, his sharp angelic hearing had caught the sound of her terrified cries. 

She was back asleep now, but how long she would last this time, before her dreams turned to nightmares once more, was anyone's guess. These dreams of hers were violent to say the least, and he rubbed his jaw to relieve the ache of where she had struck him, the blow unexpected. The first time he had tried to wake her, he had grabbed her shoulders to shake her, only to be rewarded with a fierce punch from her for his efforts. He had learned quickly to dodge her strikes, and restrain her when her clumsy struggles turned into desperate fighting. 

The first two times he had gotten her back to sleep, he had laid her back down on the pillows and left her to sleep alone. But this time, he didn't. Each of the two previous times, she had slept peacefully as long as he was holding her, but less than ten minutes after he'd left her to sleep alone, her nightmares had begun anew. This time he wouldn't leave her, he vowed silently, and tipped his head down to kiss her hair.

She groaned softly in her sleep, whimpering, when he scooted down the bed until he was lying on the pillows. He moved her slowly until she was sleeping on his chest, and rubbed her back as he spoke to her softly. Retrieving his phone from his pocket, he called Mazikeen to let her know he and Chloe would be later than expected. He had her arrange for one of their valets to come up to the hotel and retrieve the detective's car. As they had arrived separately, he had his car with him, and there was no way he would feel comfortable allowing her to make the seven hour drive herself. 

"How's Beatrice," he asked, after securing the arrangements for the safe return of Chloe's vehicle.

"She's sleeping, peacefully for once." Mazikeen chuckled softly, amused by something. "I think she's played that voicemail you left her half a dozen times already."

Lucifer released an amused breath as he smiled. "I may have to do something similar for her mother," he mused as he glanced down at the woman sleeping in his arms.

"Chloe?" Mazikeen said, and he could hear the genuine surprise and concern in his demon's tone. "She's having nightmares?"

"Yes," he answered with a heavy sigh. "I'm not certain if it's related to Malcolm, or the case she's working on right now, but they're violent, and will not leave her in peace."

Mazikeen hummed her reply, and he frowned at the sound of papers rustling in the background. 

"I looked into the name you gave me," she told him. "Not much came up that could be traced easily. Just a newspaper article from the mid nineties regarding her disappearance. You're going to need your detective's resources to get anything more detailed."

"Chloe was with her when she was taken," Lucifer revealed, and lifted the arm wrapped around the woman in question to toy with her hair. "The memory seems to be resurfacing in fragments for her," he said, and sighed. "I was hoping there was more to go on."

"The article mentioned it was the fourth kidnapping in that area in a six week period," Mazikeen offered. 

"Well, now that _is_ a pattern, isn't it?" Lucifer mused, his voice holding a dark edge. "Any sightings of mum?" he asked curiously. 

"Nothing yet," Mazikeen said, her displeasure clear. "If she's close, she's keeping herself hidden. I don't like it."

"Neither do I," he agreed. "Keep her safe, Maze," Lucifer commanded her as he ended the call.

"I will," she pledged. "I'll let her know you called."

The call disconnected a few seconds later, and his lips tugged up in a lopsided smile as he thought of the young girl. She and her mother had a striking, and rather unsettling, ability to get under his skin and into his heart without him noticing until it was too late. He sighed as he felt Chloe stir in his arms, and looked down to find her blinking up at him tiredly. 

"Is that why you've been so weird lately?" she asked him quietly, blinking slowly. "Because your mom's visiting?"

"She's not visiting," he said, and kissed her brow. "She's escaped Hell, and it's my job to put her back in her cage."

"What?" Chloe asked, her tired mind unable to make sense of what he'd said.

"No one's safe with Mum free," he told her softly. "She was locked away a long time ago, and now she's escaped."

"Why was she imprisoned?" she asked, and he realized she wouldn't be able to sleep again until she had the answer. 

"Mum and Dad are opposites, you could say," he told her, keeping his voice low and soothing, hoping she would fall asleep and think his words to be nothing but a bedtime story.

"Dad loved to create, but Mum was always jealous of it. She . . . She would manipulate relationships until love became hate, and a familial bond became a will to destroy." He sighed as he held Chloe closer, needing the comfort of knowing she was safe in his arms. "She has the rather frightening ability to talk to someone and make them kill. I've seen her convince perfectly happy people to kill themselves, goad mothers into killing their own children. She's started wars just for the pleasure she gets out of watching humans kill each other. It's a game to her," he told Chloe, and looked down when he felt her move against him.

Lucifer watched as the woman in his arms levered herself up on one arm in order to lay almost completely on his chest as she stared up at him in concern. He offered her an unsteady smile when she brushed her fingertips against his jaw, her brow furrowed. She ghosted her fingertips over his cheek, and he frowned when he saw the glisten of tears in her eyes. He sighed as he combed his fingers into her hair, cupping the back of her head, and pulled her close to kiss her brow.

"Lucifer," Chloe whispered, horrified and saddened. "Did she ever hurt you?" she asked, the concern in her voice constricting his heart.

"She tried to once," he confessed, and looked away from her penetrating stare. "It took my father, brothers, and I together to lock her away, but now that she's escaped, it's my job to put her back." 

"Why isn't your father taking any action?" she asked him in a fierce whisper, her expression furious. "How can he just leave this to you?"

"It's complicated, Chloe," he told her, almost thankful in that moment for her disbelief over his identity. If she truly believed he was the Devil, and was able to understand the gravity of this all, he feared she would turn away from him. "It was my job to make certain she never got out, but she did. Now I have to put her back."

"That son of a bitch," she cursed, and he arched a brow in amusement. "I'd really love to deck your father," she growled, and he laughed.

"Oh darling, I'd hold him down for you," he purred, his gaze darkening at the sheer arousal he felt in the presence of her anger. 

"Let me help," Chloe offered. "If she's this bad, I've got to notify -"

"No," he cut her off firmly, and met her confused gaze. "She would kill you for the simple pleasure of doing so. Any officers you bring near her she would manipulate easily into killing each other, or you. I can't risk that," he told her, making it clear he wouldn't be swayed. "I'm immune to her because I'm her son, but I will not risk your life, or Beatrice's."

"Lucifer -"

"No," he interrupted her. "You know all those stories you hear about the Devil whispering in your ear? The cautionary tale from every culture that the Devil will make you kill yourself, or others?" he said, and watched her nod. "There's a truth to it, but _I'm not_ the one who has the power to do that. That's my mother's power. She _destroyed_ an entire _village_. Not through weapons, or explosions, but through words. She whispered in their ears, made mothers drown their own infants, convinced children to kill their parents, made lovers and friends turn on each other. I watched a woman I had known since birth torture and kill her own brother, and do you know _why_ my mother convinced her to do that?"

Chloe shook her head quietly, horrified at what he was telling her. She had seen the scars on his back, knew that they were caused by his father, regardless of his claim that he had bid Mazikeen to cut off his wings. She had thought his father to be abusive, but his mother? How could he have grown up like that? It was no wonder he believed himself to be the Devil. That must have been the only rational explanation his mind had been able to come up with, and he had convinced himself of it until he didn't know anything else.

"She did that," he said, closing his eyes as he felt the pain of the wound that had never healed. "Because she wanted me to be like her. I had watched over that girl since she was a child. I _protected her_ , so my _mother_ corrupted her and made her kill her brother and then herself, just to prove how fragile she was. The things I loved, the _people_ I cared for, she _destroyed_ because she thought they made me weak." He closed his eyes as he released a harsh sigh and struggled to gain control over his emotions. "Please, Chloe," he begged of her as he met her gaze. "Please do not interfere with this."

"How can I just stand by and let her hurt you?" she asked him fiercely, and Lucifer swallowed thickly.

"Because if you don't," he told her, his voice choked. "And she hurts you, or Beatrice, there will be _nothing_ left of me."

**~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~**

Chloe sat down on the side of her bed with a sigh, and rubbed her hands tiredly over her face. That was the third nightmare her daughter had woken from, and at four-thirty in the morning, she had given up on the idea of getting back to sleep before she had to be up for work. A tired smile bent her lips in a graceful bow as she laughed softly, and shook her head. Sometime, while she and Lucifer had been in San Francisco, he had found out about her daughter's nightmares. 

He hadn't brought the subject up with her, or said anything to Trixie except what was needed to comfort her. But he had left her daughter a voicemail, and she couldn't thank him enough for it. He had spoken to Trixie as if she were the most important person in the world to him, and played the piano as he sang for her. That single voicemail had given her daughter, and herself, more comfort than she had the words to express. The first time Trixie had put her phone on speaker and played it, Chloe had cried. 

Dan had never done anything of like for the girl, and she was his daughter. But Lucifer, a man who had no need to do anything of the sort, had done so without saying a single word about it. He hadn't left the message with any thought other than to give her daughter the comfort she needed, and the silent beauty of it all had broken her just a little. It certainly let her see the side of him that she felt she was only barely beginning to know. 

The teasing, infuriating, mouth-wateringly gorgeous man who could turn any statement into sexual innuendo, she had known him from the beginning. The man who believed himself to be the Devil and seemed genuinely perturbed that she _didn't_ believe he was the most famous fallen angel, that man she knew, too. She closed her eyes as she let her head drop back, and stared at the ceiling. There had always been cracks in his armor, dents and breaks that had been left behind by a father who hadn't cared for him, and was more than a little abusive, judging by the scars left on his back. But the man who was discovering emotions, coming to terms with the fact that he felt - _everything_. Well, she was beginning to know him better, and she couldn't help, but fall in love with him a little more each time she saw him. 

Scrubbing her hands over her face, she stood from her bed and grabbed her phone before leaving her room. She couldn't get what he had told her about his mother out of her mind. How he had survived his youth and grown into the man he was now was beyond her. He had somehow found a way to remain good, and just, despite everything that had happened to him. 

"His father had best _pray_ we never meet," Chloe whispered to herself as she made her way into the kitchen, and set the coffee maker to brew. "He is a _good man_ ," she said, her voice a touch louder as she shook her head in anger. "Despite all their efforts to destroy him, Lucifer is a _good_ man. Maybe a little twisted at times," she said with a breathy laugh. "But he is better than they ever could be."

Chloe pulled a mug from the cupboard above the coffee maker, and set it down on the counter. Closing her eyes as she braced her hands on the countertop, she leaned forward and shook her head. She didn't believe in God, or the Bible, or any of that religious stuff. In her opinion, religion had never been anything more than stories written by old men that allowed adults to blame their own actions on someone fairytale being. But the one thing - the one _person_ \- she had always believed in was her father. 

When she was a little girl, she believed he could do anything. He chased away the monsters that scared her. He was the one who held her at night when a nightmare had woken her, or comforted her when someone had been mean to her at school. Her father had taught her to believe in herself, and stand up for the little guy. He had taught her what it meant to be brave, and how to have courage when it was impossible to do so.

"Daddy," Chloe prayed to him quietly, her eyes closed as she remained bent over the counter. "I love him. It terrifies me, but I do. I will protect him with everything I have. Please watch over him for me, and Father Frank, if you can hear me . . . help Daddy and I look out for Lucifer. I think you may have been his first true friend," she said, breathing in deeply as she opened her eyes, and blinked back the stinging behind her eyes.

She stood up and turned her gaze to the ceiling as she imagined they could see her. Losing her father when she was nineteen had devastated her beyond words. It had been a turning point for her, and she had left all manner of acting behind as she had pursued her career in law enforcement. A part of her had believed she could find those responsible for his death. There was a part of her that had never believed the story she and her mother had been told about his death, but there had never been anything to prove otherwise. 

Meeting, and then losing, Father Frank had been a similar turning point for Lucifer. He had bonded closely with the rock musician turned priest in such a short amount of time, only to lose him hours later. She had watched Lucifer break a little that evening, and could still feel the ghost of him in her arms, as she had held him that night when he had finally fallen asleep. The memory faded with the sound of an electronic trill. Chloe bit her lip when she looked down at her ringing phone, and saw the name on her caller ID. It wasn't even five AM yet, but it would seem Lucifer was having as much success sleeping as she was.

"Hey," she greeted softly, holding the phone to her ear as she poured herself a cup of the freshly brewed coffee.

"Good morning, Detective," Lucifer returned, and she smiled at the piano music she could hear. "Couldn't sleep?" he asked, and she hummed her reply. "How's Beatrice?"

"She's doing ok," Chloe told him, a soft smile gracing her features as she carried her coffee into the living room. "Thank you," she offered, her voice barely a whisper, her tone thick with emotion as she sat down in her favorite reading chair.

"For what?" he asked curiously, the piano music holding an almost lullaby quality.

"That voicemail you left Trixie," she told him softly. "It means the world to her. It's all she'll listen to when she's scared, or can't sleep."

She heard the breathy sound he made, and smiled at his amusement. "You're welcome," he returned almost shyly. 

"How's the search for your mom going?" she asked, and heard him sigh.

"Not well," he admitted, as he continued to play the piano. "She's keeping herself hidden for now, which isn't good. The last time she was quiet like this, she revealed herself in a big way. Countless died."

"Isn't there anyone who can help you?" she asked quietly, and sipped at her coffee.

"Maze is helping," he said, and she could almost hear him shrug. "The longer Mum stays quiet, the more dangerous she will be. She gains strength from destruction. The more humans she can convince to kill themselves, or each other, and the deeper and stronger the relationships that she can twist and corrupt into murder and chaos, the stronger she becomes."

"What can I do?" she asked, and felt him tense through their phone call.

"You can stay safe, Chloe," he told her. "I know you want to help me," he told her. "But I can't risk your life, or anyone else's."

"What if . . ." Chloe fell silent as she bit her lip. "What if I gave you access to the L.A.P.D. database? You would be able to search crime reports, look for patterns that could lead you to her," she offered. "I just can't stand the thought of you doing this alone. Your father should own up to his responsibility in this. He should be doing this, or at least helping you with it. She's your _mother_ , regardless of everything else she's done. How in the hell can he ask this of you?"

"My little Hellfire," he teased her. "Do you have any idea how ravishing you are when you're all angry and righteous like this?" he asked her in a low purr. "The way you burn and shine," he said, and she heard him breathe in, the sound causing a riot of sparks to ricochet through her nerves. "I could spend hours worshiping you," he told her, and she gasped in arousal. 

He purred seductively, and she knew he had understood exactly what the sounds she made had meant. That man was too clever, and far too smart for his own good. She was grateful he wasn't there with her right now, the sound of his voice alone had her wishing for his touch. If she were to see his eyes, the way his gaze would darken and burn with passion as it had when they'd kissed, she would be lost. 

"You've no idea how much I want to taste you," he told her softly, a low hungry growl in his tone. 

Her eyes fell closed as she leaned back against the chair, her mouth falling open at the tone of his words and the images they inspired. 

"To touch you," he continued on, and she heard his low appreciative chuckle when she groaned. "The feel of your skin beneath my hands," he said, painting the images in her mind as easily and skillfully as he played the piano, the music taking on a more wistful and seductive quality. "The sounds you made when we kissed, the way you moved beneath me," he reminded her. "I'd make you writhe and scream my name," he told her, and she panted as her body tightened in response to his voice. "It would appear that I do, in fact, have quite the effect on you, Detective," he purred with satisfaction. 

"It's only because I'm tired," she refuted his claim, her voice huskier than she had intended, and listened to his breathy chuckle.

He hummed with delight. "If a slow seduction is what you desire," he purred, and she sighed.

"Don't you start," she said, and the low chuckle he gave her had her rubbing her thighs together as energy spiraled through her to all the places that begged for his touch.

"Darling," he mused with a satisfied purr. "We _started_ months ago."

"You're incorrigible," she reprimanded him, her tone steadier than she felt.

"I'm the Devil!" he told her with a laugh. "Temptation's in my nature."

"What am I going to do with you?" she asked with exasperation. 

He hummed in delight. "Well, I can think of a few things. Might need a bit of a stretch first."

"Ass," she said, unable to help the laugh that colored the word, and shook her head.

"You love my arse," he told her smugly, and sighed as he let the piano music fade into silence. "Get some sleep, Detective," he bid of her, and she smiled in wonder when she realized what he had done. 

"You, too, Lucifer," she said, appreciation in her tone, and disconnected the call.

She closed her eyes as she set her phone down next to her mug. In his own way, he had calmed her, comforted her, and soothed away the tenseness that had kept her from being able to sleep. She may have to work today, but it was a Saturday which meant that Trixie didn't have anywhere she had to be at any set time. She could go back to bed for a few hours, and thanks to Lucifer's _Luciferness_ , she just might get some real sleep.

"When did he become so hard to resist?" she asked herself as she stood from the chair. "I am so screwed."

**~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~**

Chloe groaned in dismay as she let her head thump back against the headrest behind her. The drive to the Glendale Police Department was only supposed to take an hour, but that estimate was on a good day with traffic that actually _moved_. She had been stuck on the highway, only twenty minutes into her hour long journey, for a good hour and a half now. The cars in front of her weren't moving at all, and the people behind her were getting more restless by the minute. It was unbearably hot outside, and of all days, the A/C unit in her car had chosen today to stop working. 

There was no point to keeping her car running at this point, she thought, and turned the key to cut the engine. The whole reason for her journey to Glendale had been to get a copy of the original case file for Kari's kidnapping, but the universe seemed to be throwing every obstacle it could in her way. Wiping the sweat from her brow, she reached for her phone mounted on the dash, and called her mother on speaker. She may as well talk to the woman about this while she waited for everything to get moving again.

"Hey Pumpkin!" her mother greeted her, and Chloe smiled at the familiar alto tones.

"Hey Mom," she returned, her tone a bit more subdued.

"What's wrong?" Penelope Decker asked, and Chloe sighed.

"I'm just stuck in traffic. Been sitting in a dead stop for over an hour," she said, and smiled at the sound of sympathy her mother made. 

"Did you want me to get Trixie?" she asked, and Chloe shook her head.

"No, Mom. She's with Lucifer," Chloe told her. "Hey, I wanted to ask you something."

"You can ask me anything, honey," her mother said, and Chloe heard her talk to someone in the background.

"Do you remember back when we lived in Glendale, before we moved into the house in Malibu?" she asked, and frowned at the silence she was greeted with. "Mom?"

"What about it?" her mother asked, the tone of her voice guarded.

"Do you remember my friend Kari? I've been thinking about her lately and -"

"Honey, Kari was your imaginary friend. You know that," her mother deflected, and Chloe sat frozen in confusion.

"What? No, she wasn't, Mom," she denied. "I used to go to her house after school. We were best friends, and - "

"Stop this," Penelope commanded of her, the tone of her voice unlike anything Chloe could remember having heard from her before. "There was no Kari. She wasn't real. You made her up."

"No, Mom, I didn't," Chloe said, confused at the sense of betrayal she felt. "Mom -"

"No, Chloe," Penelope snapped. "I will not talk about this with you anymore. You _imagined_ her. She _wasn't_ real."

The call disconnected, and Chloe sat in silence as she stared at her phone. Her heart raced as she felt her mind spin. She blinked her eyes wide as she fought to breathe, and found herself suddenly dizzy beyond measure. Like a whisper from a dream, she could hear her mother's voice and another man's voice speaking to her. Their voices sounded far away, but they kept telling her that Kari was imaginary, and making her repeat it with them. None of it made any sense, and the more she tried to pull her mind away from the memory that was surfacing, the louder the ringing in her ears became. 

She squeezed her eyes closed and bent forward over the steering wheel as nausea twisted her insides. She couldn't find her balance, and felt as though she'd been strapped into a Tilt-A-Whirl. Her breaths came in short pants as she fought against the blinding vertigo that enslaved her. Moments later she heard a voice call to her, felt someone touch her shoulder, but before she could open her mouth to speak the world around her went dark. 

"We're giving her fluids right now," she heard a woman's voice say, and groaned as she struggled to open her eyes. "Don't be surprised if she wakes up, only to pass out again. Another thirty minutes in heat like that . . ."

"Thank you," she heard Lucifer say, and frowned as she tried to remember when he'd gotten in her car. 

"Lucifer," she called his name as she tried to move, her eyes still closed, and frowned at the sound of her own voice.

"Easy, darling," he soothed her, and she felt his hand on her arm. 

"Where am I?" she asked as her eyes opened slowly, her vision refusing to bring anything into focus.

"The hospital," he told her, and sighed deeply. "Olivia called to let me know you were being brought in by Medevac."

"What?" she asked breathlessly, and lifted her hand to her throat, the feel of it dry and aching. "I don't - what happened?"

"Heat stroke, apparently," he told her, and she closed her eyes as he reached out to smooth her sweat soaked hair back from her face. 

"Here," a female voice said, and Chloe opened her eyes to see a nurse handing a peach colored cup to Lucifer. "Don't let her have too many too fast, or she'll get sick," she told him, and Chloe watched him nod.

"Ice chips," he told her, as he set the cup on the wheeled table between him and the wall. "Easy now," he said as he helped her sit up. "Where were you going?" he asked her curiously as he handed her the cup.

"Glendale," Chloe told him as she swallowed a few of pieces of ice. "I wanted to get a copy of the case file from Kari's kidnapping."

"Yes, well, until the air in your car is repaired, you'll be riding with me," he informed her. "That comes straight from your boss," he said with a grin. 

"It's not like it's _been_ out," Chloe said with a sigh, and pouted as she looked at the ice. She desperately needed something to drink, and the ice wasn't doing anything to help her parched throat. "It just went out today. It didn't help that the windows and door locks shorted out, too." She looked up, her gaze searching the room, and met Lucifer's curious stare. "Don't they have any water?"

"They didn't leave any, no," he told her, and motioned for her to hand him the cup. "There," he said as he handed it back a few seconds later. "I'm hotter than you," he teased as he watched her stare at the ice water in her cup. 

"How did you?" she asked as she stared in wonder. "That's not possible."

Lucifer chuckled and met her gaze when she looked up at him. "One of these days you'll believe me," he teased her with an arrogant smirk. "What's wrong?" he asked a few moments later, and she shook her head.

"I called my mom while I was stuck in traffic," she told him, taking a long drink of the water, and shook her head as she closed her eyes. "I asked her about Kari, and she just . . . She told me I'd imagined her," Chloe said as she met his gaze, hurt and betrayal in her eyes. "She kept insisting that Kari was my imaginary friend."

"Why would she do that?" he asked her, more than a bit confused. "I asked Maze to find what she could on the girl, see if there was anything that might tell of the man who took her," he told her. "She was real. There's no denying that."

"I don't know," Chloe said, handing him her cup, and blinked slowly as she felt the room around her spin. "Lucifer," she called his name with difficulty, the sound of it almost too slurred for her to even recognize.

"It's alright, Detective," he soothed her. "Just rest," he told her as she closed her eyes, and felt him ease her back to lie on the pillows.

Lucifer sighed as he sat back against the wooden chair, and looked at the woman lying in the hospital bed. This was the second time she had been hospitalized since he'd met her, and it was no easier than the first. Shot by a bullet, or felled by heat stroke, it didn't matter. He couldn't stand to see Chloe so vulnerable, and clenched his jaw as he took in a deep breath. 

It disturbed him that her mother had tried to convince her that the girl she had known as a child had just been a figment of her imagination. It was no wonder the memories had gotten buried. The little she had told him of her father made him believe that the man wouldn't have gone along with the lie easily, or at all. A sound near the door caught his attention, and he turned his head, a smile tugging at his lips to see Trixie standing next to Mazikeen.

"Come here, darling," he bid the girl, and lifted her to sit on his knee when she was close enough. "She's alright," he promised when he caught Trixie's worried stare. "The heat got to her, is all."

Lucifer hummed softly when Trixie simply leaned against him, and rested her head on his shoulder as she stared at her mother. She had been more subdued lately, something even Mazikeen had noticed, and it worried them both. What had happened to that bright energetic child he had come to know? Tipping his head to rest his cheek against her hair, he asked her softly what was wrong and felt the movement of her shoulders when she shrugged quietly. 

"Tell me," he asked of her, and smiled sadly when she took hold his hand, seemingly fascinated by it.

"Some of the kids at school are saying that Daddy was a dirty cop," she told him quietly. "They said it means that Mommy's dirty, too. I didn't really know what they meant at first, so I looked it up on the school computers."

Lucifer pressed his lips together in a thin line as he lifted his head and kissed her hair. She wasn't yet eight years old. She hadn't had any basis of understanding for the term the older children used, and he could only imagine what kind of information a web search had turned up for her. He hugged her close as he looked over her head at her mother. Mazikeen's low growl drew his attention, and he knew that his demon wanted to strike back at the children who had said such things to her. He wanted to as well, but he knew that what was truly upsetting the child in his arms, was the lack of answers.

"Your mother is a very brave woman," he told Trixie, his tone sincere and proud. "Unlike most humans I've met, your mother carriers with her a sense of duty and honor. She is honest and noble, and you have everything to be proud of."

"But not Daddy?" she asked him, turning her head to look up at him.

Lucifer felt powerless under the weight of the child's big brown eyes. The way she always looked to him to help her make sense of things she didn't understand, or comfort her when people fought over her, was enough to shake him to his core. He stroked her hair as he held her gaze. 

"Somewhere along the way," he told her, "your father got lost. In the end, he did the right thing."

"He always told me that lying was bad," Trixie said, angered by her confusion over her father's behavior. "But he was lying to everyone. Why?" she begged Lucifer for an answer.

"I don't know," he told her honestly.

"You don't lie," she pointed out, as though the simple fact would allow him to make sense of why her father did.

"Never saw much of a point to it, really," he told her with a pout. "The truth is easier to remember, and usually much more damming than a lie."

Trixie hummed softly as she curled against him, and tucked her head beneath his chin. "I want to be like you when I grow up," she told him, and Lucifer chuckled.

"Trust me, darling," he told her with amusement. "You don't want that. Why don't you go with Maze, hm?" he encouraged her. "It'll be a while yet before they release your mother."

"Ok," Trixie agreed easily, and turned toward him. "I love you, Lucifer," she said, wrapping her arms around his neck as she hugged him.

"I love you, too, Beatrice," he whispered to her, and kissed her brow before she hopped off his lap. "Go on," he said, and nodded to Mazikeen. "If Father could see me now," Lucifer said with wry humor as he sat back against the chair, and waited for Chloe to recover.


	6. Chapter 5

AN: Lucifer and all recognizable characters belong to Jerry Bruckheimer and FOX television. Set post 'Take Me Back to Hell'. . (Written prior to the start of season 2.)

 

Summary: There is only one thing that can make an immortal vulnerable, only one thing that can hurt an angel aside from another angel - their mate. It was only a rumor, a baseless myth, something Amenadiel had never believed, until it happened to Lucifer.

**Memento Mori**

Chapter 5

by WhisperingWolf

Twelve forty-five AM. She should be sleeping. For the first time in almost a week, Trixie was sleeping soundly. But she wasn't. Chloe groaned as she gave up on the idea of getting even a few minutes of shut eye, and moved to her closet. If she was going to be up, then she may as well get all of the necessary things taken care of before she did anything else.

Collecting a change of clothes, Chloe moved into the attached bathroom and started a shower, adjusting the temperature until the water was lukewarm, almost cold. The air conditioner in her bedroom had been going full blast at sixty degrees, but everything still felt too hot to her. She had been released from the hospital within hours of being admitted, but the attending physician, and her Lieutenant, had seemed to agree that she needed to take some time off. The doctor had said seventy-two hours, but Olivia had upped the time to a full two weeks. 

Part of her had wanted to complain about the enforced time off, but she hadn't. Lucifer had taken her to the station to see Olivia, and then out for dinner, before bringing her back home. That had been four, almost five hours ago. She stepped beneath the spray of the shower as her mind replayed the conversation she'd had with Olivia over again in her mind. 

_"Decker, in the past ten days, you've had the partner - that I've seen you trust more than anyone else - get framed for murder. Your ex-husband turned himself in for taking a firearm from evidence that was used in the same murder Mr. Morningstar was accused - and framed - of. Then there was Malcolm. I haven't filed any reports, and I won't, regarding you taking that money from evidence because I know you, and I know that kind of terror." Olivia had stared at her as though daring her to disagree on any given point. "The fact of the matter is, you need time off. And instead of taking a few days after everything that happened, you asked for leeway to investigate something that you still haven't told me anything about. And with each day that's passed, I have seen you look worse and worse. Either, you're trying to use whatever you're investigating as a distraction to keep from dealing with everything that's happened. Or . . . " Olivia had paused and looked her dead in the eye. "What you_ thought _you were investigating and what you actually_ are _investigating are two very different things."_

_"Olivia . . . " Chloe had paused as she tried to find a way to tell her boss what was happening without telling her anything she didn't trust her with. "I think Malcolm may have abused his authority, and I don't mean simply with what happened. I came across some witness statements that describe him perfectly - as the perpetrator."_

_She had watched the woman's expression harden, something between anger and resignation filling her gaze._

_"I will limit you to one assigned case," she told her. "I don't brush anything under the rug, Detective. Follow where this investigation of yours leads, and come to me when you have solid proof."_

_"Yes, Ma'am," Chloe had said, and turned to leave the office._

_"Decker," she called out, and Chloe turned around to meet her gaze. "Two weeks. Go home, get some rest. That's an order."_

She was still too hot, the water not nearly cold enough to help her, and she turned the temperature down further. Chloe turned her face up into the spray, and let the water wash over her, only to suddenly reach for the bar above the shower as her vision blurred. The doctor had cautioned her to take it easy, warning her that bouts of vertigo, and even nausea were to be expected. Closing her eyes as she held her breath before releasing it slowly, she fought against the impossibly strong wave of dizziness that assailed her. This was the part she could do without, she thought, as she regained her balance slowly.

The dreams were getting worse, Chloe thought as she turned around in the shower, and washed her hair. Her hands shook as she reached for her razor, and she fought against the maddening pull of her emotions as she washed and shaved herself. She had told Lucifer she was fine, but it was so very far from the truth that _she_ and _fine_ weren't even in the same zip code. She knew he was worried about her, but she just couldn't ask him for more than he had already given. Her eyes filled with tears as her serene expression contorted into misery.

Chloe moved slowly to sit in the corner of the tub, her knees drawn to her chest, as the cold water of the shower fell on her skin. She had heard the gun shot. She had watched him fall, heard his stunted gasping breaths as he lay dying. Covering her mouth with her hands, she did her best to muffle her sobs as the memory of that night overtook her. The sight of him lying unmoving - _dead_ \- on the ground had broken her. It didn't matter that he had gotten back up, or that he had held her each night they were in San Francisco. All she knew was that he had been killed because of her.

Her breaths came in sharp, aching pants as she tried to pull air into her lungs. Everything was wrong. Nothing made sense anymore, and the more she was able to act normal for everyone during the day, the more she felt herself shatter apart when she was alone at night. She heard her phone ring, the sound snapping her from the emotions that choked her, and she stared at the shower curtain as she listened to the digital ring sound again before falling silent. 

She blinked slowly as her mind drifted back to San Francisco. Closing her eyes as she felt the memory of Lucifer's arms wrap around her, Chloe felt safe for the first time in days. So much of her time there had been spent in the comfort of his embrace, and she felt guilty for wishing he was there with her now. After everything he had been through, and now the efforts he was going through to find his mother - a woman who by all accounts was more dangerous than anyone she'd ever met - how could she ask him to give any more of himself to her? 

Just a few minutes, she told herself as she closed her eyes and leaned her temple against the cool tiled wall of the shower. Hugging her arms around her knees, she almost smiled at the frigid water that rained down on her. She had been tense and short tempered for hours since leaving the hospital, and no matter how cold she had turned the air conditioner, or how many ice packs she had curled up with, she hadn't been able to cool down, until now. 

She wasn't sure when she'd fallen asleep in the shower, but when she woke, the comfort of her bed surrounded her. She may be naked, but she had been dried off and tucked into bed. Her muscles protested each move she made, and she groaned as she reached for the cup of water sitting on her bedside table. There were two Advil sitting next to the cup, and she gave a smiling pout at the thoughtfulness of the one person who could have left them there for her. 

"Well, look who's awake," Lucifer greeted her from the doorway, and she blinked up at him with a curious frown. "Beatrice called me," he told her, and shrugged. 

"What time is it?" Chloe asked as she held the blankets to her chest, and sat up against the pillows.

"Almost ten," he answered, and stepped into the room when she tipped her head in a silent invitation. "Your color's better," he remarked, as he looked at her arms and face. "The water was so cold, I was surprised it didn't wake you."

Chloe hummed softly in amusement when he joined her, sitting beside her against the pillows. Her eyes closed of their own accord as she breathed in, the scent of him soothing her. She doubted he wore cologne, Lucifer didn't really strike her as the type to do so, but the scent he carried with him had always put her at ease. Her lips pulled up at the corners when she felt his arm wrap around her shoulders, and she curled against him when he tucked her into his side.

"Are you falling asleep on me?" he asked her curiously, and Chloe chuckled softly.

"No, at least I don't think so," she answered, and frowned as she shivered. "I couldn't cool down," she confessed, smiling softly when he tucked the blankets up around her shoulders. "Everything was too hot, even with the AC as cold as it would go, I felt like I was baking. I think I was in the shower for about an hour, when I finally started to actually feel normal again."

"You're saying you had it that cold the entire time?" he asked, and she nodded against his chest. "Do you remember when you got in?"

"Almost one AM," Chloe said, and curled closer to his warmth. "Why?"

"Beatrice didn't call me until eight," he told her, rubbing his hand against her arm as he offered her his warmth. "You were almost blue from the cold when I found you."

She hummed her reply as she relaxed, feeling the same comfort she had when they shared the hotel room. Chloe couldn't remember a time, in all her years with Dan, when she had felt the need to be in his presence. But with Lucifer, everything was different. There were so many times that he infuriated her, but no matter what happened between them, he was always able to comfort her just by being in the same room. 

She smiled when she felt him press a kiss to her hair. In the beginning, she had simply been fascinated by him, a man with a past she couldn't sort out, and had wanted nothing more than to solve the mystery that was him. But the more she worked with him, the more she wanted to spend time with him, for nothing more than the simple fact that he calmed her. As more time passed, she had found that her desire to be in his presence had become a need. Somehow, he had become her center of gravity. 

Chloe almost felt sorry for the women and men who had shared his bed. They saw the outside, the window dressing, but she got to see everything underneath. Torn, and ragged though he was, the Lucifer behind the mask was so much more beautiful than the man everyone else saw. She had been able to admit his beauty when she had met him, there was no way to deny the fact that he was a very striking man, but it hadn't been until the case they worked with Father Frank that she had felt the pull of her attraction to him. And that pull had only grown stronger as time passed. 

"If you're awake," he said, and Chloe turned her head up to meet his gaze curiously. "And here I thought you were napping," he teased her. "I was able to hold off your spawn with a few pieces of fruit and cheese, but I don't think she'll last much longer without something more. Feel up for breakfast?" he asked, and Chloe smiled as she nodded and bit her lip. "I'll leave you to get dressed," he told her, and pressed a kiss to her brow. 

She missed his warmth immediately when he stood from the bed, and watched him leave the room as he pulled the door closed behind him. That insufferable teasing highly sexual man was still there, shining brightly at her from behind his eyes, but when he was worried about her, she got to see the man who had just sat with her. The man who was gentle and kind, the man who held her without any expectation other than to give her comfort and lend her his strength. The same man who had played the piano for her daughter. 

She sighed deeply, knowing she was lost, and reached for her phone. She remembered the call that had come while she was in the shower, and stared curiously at her phone to see that it had been Lucifer who had called. She bit her lip at the notification that he had left a voicemail, and tapped on the screen to play the message.

 _"Hello Detective,"_ his voice came to her, smooth and seductive, his tone gentle and soothing. _"Put the phone on speaker, love and lie back for me . . . That's my girl. Go on now, close your eyes,"_ he said, and she smiled as she bit her lip. _"Try and sleep for me, even just a few minutes,"_ he asked of her, and she gasped at the sound of the piano. 

"Lucifer," Chloe breathed out, as tears pricked at her eyes. 

She listened as he sang to her, his tenor voice carrying over the line as the piano lifted and fell with him. Two songs. He had given her two songs, and she felt the tears gathered in her eyes fall onto her cheeks as the last notes faded into silence. She was quick to save the message, marking it as important, and set the phone aside as she dried her eyes. She had been reluctant to tell him how much she needed him, but he had known, and in his own way, he had made certain to always be there for her.

"Every time I think I've seen every side of you," she said as she shook her head in wonder. "You show me something new."

**~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~**

Chloe looked up from her drink as she watched the woman walk towards her, and smiled gratefully when she took the seat opposite her. She hadn't wanted to meet in her office, even though it would have been a much more controlled and private environment, the isolation of it had made her feel uncomfortable. She didn't speak as she waited for the other woman to get settled, and smiled when the girl behind the counter brought out the deep ceramic cup that look more like a bowl with a handle, and set in front of her companion.

"Thank you for coming," Chloe greeted her, and watched the woman smile.

"I'm glad you called," Linda returned, and sipped her coffee. "Lucifer told me that memories are coming back for you. He was concerned," she admitted, and Chloe nodded.

"It's not just memories anymore," Chloe told her, and sighed. "There are nightmares I've been dealing with, and I thought I had a handle on them . . ."

"What changed?" Linda asked her, and Chloe frowned.

"I think I'm having waking dreams," she admitted, and watched the good doctor tip her head in a silent request for her to explain. "I was walking through the mall yesterday. It was just a normal day. Trixie and I were out with Lucifer, Trix wanted to look at . . . I don't really remember, but . . . The man who took Kari, I thought I saw his face in a window. I've never felt panic like that before. I don't even remember moving, but when I - I don't know . . . came out of it?" she said, confused by her own memory. "Lucifer was kneeling in front of me, and I was tucked back in a corner. I don't remember moving. I remember seeing that man's face in the window, and I remember Lucifer, but there's nothing in between."

Linda nodded sagely as Chloe spoke. The nightmares, she could deal with. The pieces of memory that came back to her when she was in the middle of doing the dishes, or sitting at her desk, she could deal with. But the panic, the flashes of things that came to her when she was driving, or out in public, and the moments of lost time after? She felt like she was losing her mind.

"Lucifer told me I'd been . . . unresponsive . . . for almost half an hour," Chloe admitted, her voice unsteady. "How do I make this stop?" she begged the woman for an answer.

"I don't think you can. The memories that are coming back have been suppressed for a long time. They're slipping through whatever cracks in your mind they can find," Linda answered honestly. "Tell me about your nightmares," she requested, and Chloe frowned.

"There's nothing there really," Chloe said, her eyes closed as she shook her head. "I know I'm young, I've got to be because I feel really small. I can't see anything, and it's hard to move. I'm terrified, more than I've ever been. I can hear footsteps coming toward me." She paused as she looked up at the woman across from her. "It doesn't make any sense, but . . . it feels like I'm in a box."

"Chloe," Linda stopped her, and waited for the detective to meet her gaze. "Are you certain it was just your friend who was kidnapped?"

Chloe pulled back with confusion. "Yeah," she said with a deep frown. "I remember the man taking Kari. I remember the car."

"Do you remember the car driving off?" Linda asked her, pushing for an answer, and Chloe's gaze fell away as she searched the few pieces she had of that memory.

"I remember the car stopping," she said slowly. "I remember the man sitting in the car. He was looking at us from behind the wheel." Chloe folded her lips in over her teeth as she bit down on them, her eyes narrowing as she tried to pull harder on the memory. "I remember . . . Kari wasn't with me anymore."

"But you don't remember the car driving off, or seeing Kari trying to get out of the car?" Linda asked, and Chloe felt more confusion take hold as she desperately tried to remember.

Chloe shook her head. "I remember watching Kari disappear. And then I remember getting really tired." She sighed heavily as she shook her head to dispel the memory. "Any time I try to push for more of that memory, I always get really tired. I usually end up falling asleep. The nightmares come more often, and more violently, if I try to push into that memory. What?" she asked as she met Linda's concerned stare.

"I think you may have been taken as well," Linda told her. "Have you asked your mother about that time?"

Chloe released a resentful snort. "I tried," she admitted. "She got defensive about it. She kept insisting that Kari was my imaginary friend, and that I had just imagined whatever it was I thought I was remembering." She looked down at the file on the table. "But I didn't. Lucifer never doubted me, but I had to know for certain. This is the case file from her kidnapping. There's not a lot in here, but Kari was real."

"Detective . . . Chloe," Linda said, and Chloe met her gaze. "I'd like to help you with this case, however I can. The more you uncover, the stronger the nightmares are going to become. Let me ask you something," she said curiously. "Is there anything that makes you feel safe right now, even when you wake from the nightmares?"

Chloe bit her lip and nodded. "Lucifer," she admitted softly. "It's funny," she said with a breathy laugh. "Trixie said something a while back, and I . . . I think I understand how she feels now."

"What did she say?" Linda asked with a curious smile, and Chloe laughed softly.

"Lucifer makes the monsters go away."

**~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~**

Lucifer looked up at the sound of the club's door opening, and arched a brow when he saw Trixie come down the stairs. She didn't appear upset, but her presence was curious to say the least. He met her gaze with a smile, and patted the piano bench next to him. He waited for her to join him before he lifted his hand to the piano keys and touched a few of the notes in the high register. He smiled when she giggled, and listened as she played the bit of the song he'd been teaching her.

"Thought you were supposed to be with Mama Decker today," he said, as he played the piano with her. 

"She wasn't there," Trixie said, and shrugged.

"Beatrice," Lucifer said as he stilled, and did his best to keep the sudden spark of anger he felt out of his voice. "She was supposed to pick you up at the zoo after your friend's party, are you telling me she never came?" he asked, and watched the child look up at him with a shrug as though it wasn't the first time something like that had happened. 

"I called Nana's phone," Trixie said, and turned her attention back to the piano. "She didn't answer. I waited for almost an hour," she told him, and shrugged. "Usually when she forgets, I just go home, and stay with the neighbor. But that was before you!" she told him cheerfully. "Is it not okay that I'm here?" she asked a moment later, her tone worried.

"I'd rather you be here, moppet, than not know where you are," he told her, and tapped the end of her nose with his finger as he smiled. "Did you let your mother know?" he asked, and watched her shrug. "That's a 'no' then."

"I texted her, but she didn't answer. Usually that means her phone is turned off," Trixie said, and then giggled. "Or she forgot to charge it."

"By your amusement, I would say this has happened before?" he asked, and watched the child beside him nod. 

"Mama doesn't use her phone as much as most people, so when the battery runs out, she doesn't always notice until she can't turn it on," Trixie said with a laugh. 

Lucifer chuckled as he shook his head. "Have you eaten?" he asked, knowing that the girl had a rather insatiable appetite. 

Trixie nodded quietly, her brows furrowing as she studied the instrument in front of them. He lifted his hand to her hair, tucking her dark locks behind her ear, and waited for her to meet his gaze. He knew she was still having nightmares, her quietness proof enough of that. She leaned against his side as he petted her hair, and he sighed softly when she ducked her head to hide the tears in her eyes.

"It's alright, moppet," he soothed her as he moved her to sit in his lap, and held her in his arms. "Would you tell me?" he asked of her, and felt her shrug. "What did that bad man do?" he asked.

"He said I made it easy to kill mommy," she told him softly, finally giving voice to what had happened when Malcolm had her. "He said mommy would come because he had me, and you would come to save mommy. He said if it wasn't for me, than he wouldn't be able to kill both of you so easily." She sniffled as she tightened her grip on him, and Lucifer lifted her to hold her against his shoulder, kissing her cheek as he rubbed her back. 

"What else?" he asked when she remained silent.

"He said . . . he said he wasn't the only one who wanted mommy dead," she told him, and he held her tighter when he felt her tremble. "He showed me pictures."

"What kind of pictures?" he asked, and looked up at the feel of Mazikeen's and Chloe's presence. 

"A man was dead," she told him, her voice muffled when she turned her face into his shoulder. "He was all cut up, with a star on his chest, and he said he was gonna do the same to mommy."

"Is that everything?" he asked softly, and felt the girl nod. "He can never hurt you, Beatrice. He can never touch you again."

"But what if it happens again with someone else?" she asked, tears falling down her cheeks when she looked up at him. "You died because of me."

"And I'd do so again," he promised her sincerely. "But it would never, in any manner, be your fault. Do you understand me?" he asked, and watched her nod slowly. "Do you want to play the piano some more, or watch a movie?"

"Can we go watch Spirit?" she asked, and he chuckled. 

Lucifer smiled at Trixe's request, and kissed her brow. 'Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron' was a story told not only through the dialogue, but more so through music. If one was of a mind to, they could tell the story through the use of a symphony alone. It was perhaps the one movie of the collection he kept for her, that he favored the most. 

"Of course, darling," he said as he stood from the piano, Trixie in his arms. 

"Thank you," Chloe spoke softly, and he smiled shyly as he nodded. 

"Come join us, Detective," he said, keeping his voice low, and led her to the elevator.

"Maze," Trixie called over his shoulder, holding her hand out to the demon bartender. 

Mazikeen sighed as she shook her head and moved to follow them. Ever since she had started the child's fight training, Trixie hadn't wanted to be anywhere that she wasn't. She smiled with humor as she remembered the way the girl had introduced her as 'her bodyguard' the first time she had taken Trixie to school. It was made even more impressive by the fact that she had put Trixie on the back of her Harley instead of taking a car.

"Hey Trix," Chloe said, smiling as she stepped into the elevator with Lucifer and Mazikeen. "Did you tell Maze?" she asked with a teasing grin.

"Tell me what?" Mazikeen asked as she looked from mother to child.

"There was an assignment for her class. Trixie had to write up a paper on her hero, and why that person inspired her," Chloe told her with an amused smirk.

Mazikeen frowned in confusion. "Ok? Who's your hero?" she asked Trixie, and watched the girl smile bright. "What?" she asked, feeling as though everyone knew something that she didn't.

"You are," Chloe told her with a grin.

**~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~**

"I don't think I've ever seen Maze so shocked before," Chloe said, laughing softly as she sat on the couch with Lucifer. 

"I don't think she ever expected to be anyone's hero, let alone your spawn's," he told her, grinning as he remembered the look of almost horror on the demon's face. "You've been a bit off kilter yourself," he observed, his tone curious as he waited for an explanation.

Chloe sighed as she set aside the tablet she carried for work. She still wasn't sure what she thought of everything, but it was getting harder to push it away. 

"I had coffee with Dr. Martin a couple days ago," she told him, her brow furrowing as she looked at the drink in his hand before meeting his gaze. "I talked with her about the memories that have resurfaced, the nightmares . . . what happened in the mall." 

He watched her with concern as she rubbed her lips together. The expression on her face was so uncertain and hesitant that he wondered if the conversation had ended badly.

"She thinks I was kidnapped, too," Chloe said softly as she looked up to meet his gaze.

Lucifer nodded silently. "What do you think?" he asked, and watched her shake her head.

"I don't know," Chloe said, her voice somewhat choked. "I didn't really know what to think at all, but . . ." She fell silent as she met his gaze, and took his scotch gratefully when he handed her the glass. "I called the Glendale department and asked for all files related to Kari's kidnapping. The clerk said that there was a file listed with my name on it, but there was no corresponding file found in the records room." He watched her fight against her emotions, blinking rapidly, as she steadied herself admirably. "I called my mom again. I told her I had Kari's case file, and she just got so mad. She hung up. She hasn't answered any of my calls since."

"It's a bit more than that, Detective," he told her, his voice smooth, but his eyes hard. "She left your spawn to fend for herself today. Last I was aware, Mama Decker was supposed to gather her from the zoo after the party Beatrice attended."

"She was supposed to, yes," Chloe said with a heavy sigh. "It wouldn't be the first time she's forgotten, though."

"She used to forget you, didn't she?" Lucifer asked, and watched Chloe nod. "What?" he asked as he studied her.

"I looked up Kari's mom," Chloe said, her expression unreadable. "She still lives in the same house. She's willing to talk with me. I just . . . would you go with me?"

"Asking a favor of the devil?" he teased her, and was frozen by the sincerity in her expression.

"I'm asking my friend because he's a good man, and as my daughter likes to say, you make the monsters go away," she said, and Lucifer cursed silently.

"Bloody hell," he said, and shook his head as he took his glass from her and drank the rest of the scotch. "You don't play fair, woman," he told her, and gave her a long suffering side-eyed look when she laughed softly. "Perhaps we should ask Doctor Linda to go with us," he mused as he wrapped his arm around Chloe's shoulders and tucked her against his side. "I can't imagine this conversation being easy on either of you."

"You really are a good man," she told him, and giggled when he gave a deep sigh. 

He took in a deep breath as he sat back against the couch, and looked up at the animated movie that was playing. Trixie was asleep in Mazikeen's arms, and it amused him to no end that his demon was asleep as well. It seemed the child was able to wear her out better than most anything else.

"You know, before you came along, I really was immortal," he told her, and laughed as she curled up against him, her hand resting over his heart. "I was invulnerable, too, you know." Chloe hummed her reply as she curled closer to him, and he released a heavy sigh as he looked down at her. "And you're asleep." He turned his eyes heavenward as he set his empty glass aside. "If this was in any manner part of plan," he told his Father. "Then you are a right sadistic git."

The chuckle from the balcony called his attention, and he looked over his shoulder to see his brother standing with his wings out.

"Bloody hell," Lucifer groused as the angel stepped further into his home. 

"Don't get up on my account," his brother teased him. "I'm not here for a fight, or any kind of argument," he told Lucifer. "And I doubt this was part of Father's plan," he said as he glanced at the woman in his arms, and the child in Mazikeen's. 

"Then why are you here?" Lucifer asked, acting as though he was bored by his sibling's presence.

"Partly because of her," he said, and moved to sit down in the chair across from him. "Partly because of mom."

"Get to the point, Gabriel," Lucifer demanded with a sigh.

"For the past several decades, I have had to sit back in Heaven and listen as children cried out in terror, cried for help. I hear their voices. I don't know why Father gave me the ability specifically to hear children, but He did." He looked down at his hands, his weariness apparent. "Father forbid me from involving myself in this unless someone began helping them first, and asked for my help directly. So, I did what you used to do. I found a loophole." 

"Oh?" Lucifer asked with an arch of his brow.

Gabriel looked at Chloe, his gaze softly amused. "I slipped into her father's heaven and spoke with him, told him about you even. He told me some story about an old gypsy woman, and then said, and I quote "If you've got even half the balls your daddy gave you, you'll get your feathered ass down there and help the devil protect my baby." So, I'm taking that as a direct request for me to help fix this."

Lucifer's eyes widened before he barked with laughter, and looked down at the woman tucked against his side. Now, more than ever, he wanted to meet the good detective's father. The man sounded very much like his daughter, but a bit rougher around the edges. 

"She won't simply accept you in this, or trust you, because you tell her you're an angel," he told Gabriel. "She won't even believe you. This is essentially a mortal problem, in the mortal world. How will you become part of this to work with everyone involved?"

"That part, I'm working on. Give me a few days," he said, and his levity fell as he grew serious. "It's not just about finding the ones who are missing _now_ , brother. This is going to get bad," he warned. "I'll be seeing you," he said, and stood from the couch. "By the way," he said as he moved to the balcony. "Someone named Frank Lawrence wanted me to tell you "It wasn't completely terrible"," he said, and looked at his brother with confusion. 

Lucifer drew in a sharp breath as he opened his eyes wide and released a harsh sigh. He nodded his thanks for the message, and watched his brother disappear into the sky. He closed his eyes as he remembered sitting at the piano with the man, and the way the rock musician turned priest had tapped his shoulder when he had said those words the first time. Blinking back the stinging behind his eyes, he nodded. He understood the message the priest was sending him. Father Frank was telling him that he was ok, and that Lucifer himself would be ok, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of the chapters coming up (not many of them, but some) will have titles with them. When I was first crafting the story a while back, I had started naming the scenes that inspired those chapters, and the names stuck. In a few more chapters, you all will get to read the one entitled "Lucifer's Bear', and I'm excited for you all to see it. 
> 
> Thank you for all the support, the amazing comments, and the kudos. I very much love seeing all the comments left behind. And I don't mind at all the request for teasers. ^_~ It tells me I'm doing my job right.


	7. Chapter 6

AN: Lucifer and all recognizable characters belong to Jerry Bruckheimer and FOX television. Set post 'Take Me Back to Hell'. (Written prior to the start of season 2.)

 

Summary: There is only one thing that can make an immortal vulnerable, only one thing that can hurt an angel aside from another angel - their mate. It was only a rumor, a baseless myth, something Amenadiel had never believed in, until it happened to Lucifer.

**Memento Mori**

Chapter 6

by WhisperingWolf

Chloe bit her thumbnail as she looked down at the file in front of her. The idea had come out of nowhere, or more specifically, out of a rather frustrating inability to sleep. It hadn't been nightmares that kept her awake this time. No, this particular bout of insomnia had all been thanks to one simple question her daughter had asked her.

_"Do you think people are like spider webs?" Trixie had asked her as she was tucking her daughter into bed._

_"What baby?" Chloe asked her in confusion._

_"Mrs. Dugan, our substitute, told us to make picture maps of our friends and families, but starting with us. If I'm at the center, and I know some people really well, then they would be on the first circle around me, and the people that I don't know all that well would be connected to them, and from them connected to me. So, wouldn't that make it like a spider web?"_

Leave it to a child to make a complicated connection so distractingly easy to follow, Chloe thought. She looked through the history of the victim in front of her, and turned to the legal pad next to her. Starting with the victim, she began listing the witnesses of the crime itself. Once that web was complete, she flipped the page over and began a new web on the next page. Beginning again with the victim's name, she started to make a close circle that included friends and immediate family. Another circle after was crafted from known associates and the people listed that she had worked with in the past.

She narrowed her eyes as she looked down at one sheet of paper in the file and then glanced back at her notes. That was odd, she thought as she glanced back and forth a few more times, comparing the information. She didn't know why the fact that the woman had a profile on FaceBook captured her attention, but it did. Millions of people had FaceBook accounts, why it bothered her that this woman had a profile on the popular social media network, was beyond her. 

Moving to the tablet she kept for work, Chloe opened an internet browser, and loaded FaceBook's homepage. Seconds later she had typed in the woman's name and was staring at her profile. She narrowed her eyes as she stared at the screen. _Why_ did this bother her so much? What were her eyes seeing that her mind couldn't make sense of? Rubbing her eyes as she sat back with a heavy sigh, Chloe blinked at the page, only to still as she saw what she had been missing.

"Lost and forgotten," she whispered as she clicked on the link for the FaceBook group. "Helping families get answers for lost children," she read the description, and saw that it was a locked group.

If she wanted to get into the group to see more, she would have to sign in with her profile. She rolled her eyes as she sat back. She'd have to create a profile first. She'd had a FaceBook account years back, but had deleted it after one particular case she'd worked with a woman from the Center for Lost and Exploited Children. People had been using FaceBook to find out the best times and places to get a child when there would be less witnesses, or when the ability to track where they'd went would be greatly limited. And they had been doing it using the parents' profiles.

"Oh God, no," Chloe whispered in horror, as she began linking back from the victim's FaceBook profile page out to a few of her listed friends. 

She wrote down the name of a woman tagged in almost every post for the last three months, and then found a link from that woman's page to the same group her victim had been a part of. She followed the trace through a few more people from her first victim, before moving on to a couple of the other files she'd taken when she had first started the investigation.

"They were searching for themselves," she whispered as she looked back at her legal pad. "All the victims I have that were taken as children, they were trying to find out who they were. They were remembering."

Chloe sighed as she stared wide eyed at the screen. She needed to get into that group. There had to be someone lurking there who knew that the rape and murder victims with criminal records that she had here _were_ the missing children listed in the group. But even if she did get in, how would she find out who the lurking party was? She released a heavy breath as she sat back. Another lead, and another cliff edge. Every time she thought she was making some kind of headway, she'd find herself either falling down another rabbit hole, or blocked by a truth that was impossible to sort out. 

She tipped her head as she studied the computer screen, only to realize what had drawn her attention. The content of the group might be locked, but the list of 'Members You Know' wasn't. Clicking on the link, she was brought to a page that held a list of thirty people who were members of the group. All but five of the people were shown to be part of her victim's friends list. Clicking on each person in turn, Chloe copied down their name, location, and date of birth for those who had listed it. If she could find any record of these people in the L.A.P.D database, she might have a hope of cracking this nut open a little wider. 

Even if she did find the people on the new list in the L.A.P.D database, what would she know? There was more than a passing chance that the names they had here would be aliases, or could have been changed. There was the other possibility that she may not find them at all, unless they had a criminal record, or were the victim of a crime. The only way to truly find if there was any link between the adults she found, and the children who had been kidnapped, was to . . . 

"To regress them," Chloe whispered as she tipped her head in thought. "I have to have their current photos regressed to see what they would have looked like as children."

But that begged another question. If the children started showing up in the criminal database at twelve, or fourteen years of age, why did none of the arresting officers make the connection between the arrested individual, and the kidnapping reports? Her lips twisted to the side as she stared at the computer screen in thought. How many children could have gone missing during the time that Kari was taken, she wondered. 

It was a simple thing to pull up the L.A.P.D database and enter the search information. Missing children from the month of April in nineteen ninety-four. Rubbing her hand tiredly over her face, she stood up from the table as the system worked on compiling the search results for her, and moved over to her coffee maker. She had already been through two pots of coffee, but felt as though she was barely hanging on to the little energy it provided her. She had tried, at one point, to lay down on the couch and sleep. She had even listened to the voicemail Lucifer had left her three times, but she simply couldn't get to sleep.

The knock at the front door startled her, and Chloe cursed as she dropped the can of coffee grounds to the floor, the dark powder going everywhere except where she wanted it to go. Closing her eyes as she released a deep sigh, she looked down at the mess and turned away from it. She stepped over to the door, ready for some kind of fight, only to feel an intense wave of relief wash over her to see Lucifer's face on the other side of the glass.

"Hey," she greeted him, as she let him into her home.

"Bit early to be awake, isn't it?" he teased her as he stepped inside, his hands in his pockets. 

Chloe grinned as she shook her head at his teasing. "Pot kettle, wouldn't you say?" she asked in return as she stepped past him to deal with the mess in the kitchen. "What's got you awake?" she asked, as she watched him step around her.

"Never sleep that much, really," he told her. "Only need a few hours."

She could feel his eyes on her as she swept the last of the spilled coffee into the dustpan, and moved to drop it into the trash. Setting the small broom and pan aside, she moved the sink, washing her hands as she waited for him to say something more. He remained quiet, something she found highly unusual for him, and turned to meet his gaze as she dried her hands with a dish towel. 

"Are you ok?" she asked him, his expression unreadable, yet vulnerable at the same time.

"I don't dream," he told her, and she frowned in confusion. "Never have, actually. Not that I remember at least," he said, and released a sigh.

"Did you have a dream?" she asked, watching as he seemed to move closer to her while maintaining his distance. "Lucifer?" she called to him when he seemed to have forgotten she was there.

She watched his expression shift as he swallowed thickly, before offering her a short curt nod. She could ask him about his dream, she thought, but the look on his face told her that it wasn't something he wanted to talk about. He looked shaken, and she wondered if he had been dreaming about his mother, or something equally as terrifying. Offering him a soft smile, she moved closer to him, and lifted her hand to touch his cheek. The stubble of his barely-there beard was rough against her fingertips, and she watched him close his eyes as he nuzzled against her palm.

"What were you working on?" he asked, backing away from her touch as the moment between them was broken.

"Um . . ." What was she working on, she asked herself. "Spider webs," she said with a shrug, and relayed the conversation she'd had with Trixie to him. 

She told him about the ties she had found between one of the victims, and a few others on FaceBook. There was another list of names she had that she would need to check in on for corresponding case files. She showed him the information she had compiled, before looking to the computer when the alert sound played to indicate the search had completed.

"That can't be right," she said, the blood draining from her face as she fell to sit heavily in her chair.

"Detective?" Lucifer called to her, a silent request for her to explain.

"The results," she said, glancing up from the computer to meet his gaze, and back at the screen. "I had it search for missing child cases during the month of April in nineteen ninety-four. That's the month and year Kari was taken," she said.

"And you as well," he reminded her, and she met his gaze, before offering a slow nod. "How many?" he asked, and nodded to the device.

"In the LA area alone," she said, her voice unsteady. "Four thousand three hundred ninety-two," she said, her eyes impossibly wide. "How is that possible?"

"Can you narrow it down?" he asked, and moved the chair next to her before sitting down. "Filter out the ones that are too young to match the pattern, and any that were recovered."

Chloe made the necessary changes, and watched as the results updated. "That still leaves us with over three thousand children missing," she said, and fisted her right hand tightly as she felt it become difficult to breathe.

As though he sensed her rising panic, Lucifer slipped his hand against hers, entwining their fingers, and rested their joined hands on her knee. He didn't look at her, or say anything to acknowledge the embrace. He didn't comment on her emotional state, either, and she felt the tightness that had gripped her chest release as though it had never been there. She didn't know how, but Lucifer had chased away the shadows of her fear once again. Whoever thought that her knight in shining armor would be a sexy as sin British man who proclaimed himself to be the Devil?

"Is there a way to separate them down into two groups?" he asked, and she turned her head to meet his gaze. "Children still missing, and children found dead," he clarified, and Chloe nodded as she used her right hand to peck at the keyboard.

"That leaves us with nineteen hundred twenty-four missing, and fifteen hundred thirty-seven dead," she told him. "I can sort the dead down further," she said as she forced her emotions back, and slipped her hand free of his. "Ok, from the original count dead, we are left with twelve hundred twenty that are listed as unsolved. That's odd," she said as she narrowed her eyes at the screen. "Some of them are in clusters."

"What are you doing?" he asked when she stood from the table. 

"I'm setting up the printer," she told him, a hint of a smile playing at her lips. "I think we just got a bit of a break," she said with some satisfaction, and brought the portable printer she usually kept in her police cruiser to the table. "I can print off the results. We'll get a list of names, locations, and maps. From that," she said, and sighed. "We should be able to find some kind of pattern. And if we can take the adult victims we already know about, and have their photos regressed to what they would've looked like as children, we can compare where they were taken from to where they started popping up as criminal offenders."

"That's progress then," he said, and she smiled when she saw his approval. 

"It'll take a while for it all to print," she said, feeling unaccountably tired as she looked at the machines on the table.

"Perhaps a bit of sleep then?" he asked, and she looked back at him. "We're finding the answers, Detective," he told her. "We will punish those responsible."

She hummed her reply as she looked back at him, and glanced down at the hand he held out to her. The restless energy that had kept her awake before seemed to have vanished in the light of the new answers that were at her fingertips. She gave no thought to her movements as she stepped toward him and placed her hand in his. Her eyes closed as he drew her closer, and she felt his lips press a kiss to her forehead. His arms wrapped around her as she leaned into him, and seconds later she was asleep.

**~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~**

Her emotions were spiraling. That was the best way Chloe could describe it. One moment she would be relaxed and calm, the next she would be angry and ready to physically attack the next person that she saw. She couldn't speak with anyone to any successful degree because when she tried, all she wanted to do was yell. She knew what the problem was, and she knew what she wanted to do to solve it, but she also knew that she couldn't have Trixie anywhere near her if she was going to take action. 

The answer to her dilemma had been simple enough, and Mazikeen - while reluctant - had been gracious in her agreement to keep watch of her daughter overnight. Chloe sat down on her bed, crossing her legs, as she took in a deep breath only to release it with a sigh and closed her eyes. It was now, or never, she thought and opened her eyes as she reached for her phone. Turning on the voice recorder, she set her phone on her knee and fisted her hands in the blankets on either side of her as she closed her eyes once more.

She felt her heartbeat race in a maddening unsteady rhythm as she forced the memory to come to the forefront of her mind. Her lips parted as she took in gasping breaths, and let the panic overwhelm her. If she had any hope of regaining control of herself, she had to remember more, and the only way to do that was to force herself deeper into the fragmented memories that held her prisoner. 

"I'm standing on the sidewalk. Kari's house is just up ahead. I can see the car pulling up next to us." Chloe paused as she squeezed her eyes closed and pushed for more from the memory. "I can see the car, but why can't I hear the car. Kari and I are talking . . . What are we talking about? . . . There's a new boy in our class," she said, nodding to herself as the memory came to her. "He doesn't talk. Kari's asking me if I think he's weird. Why does she think he's weird?" She shook her head as she tried to ignore that part of the memory, but her mind kept cycling back to it. "Why is that boy important?"

Her brow furrowed as she pushed deeper into the memory, and sucked in a breath sharply between her teeth as pain exploded behind her eyes. Bending forward, she pressed the heel of her hand against her forehead in an effort to stave off the pain. She had known that a migraine would be a likely possibility of doing this. Each time a memory fragment had come to her, a headache that lasted for hours would accompany it. It was almost as though her mind was mad at her for trying to remember. 

"Why is that boy important?" she asked herself again, and shook her head. She kept her eyes closed as she searched for more details. "He was in the car. The boy in our class was in the car. The man driving, was he the boy's father? I can see him turn around, he's talking to the boy. What is he . . . Brr . . . Ber-new . . . Berniukas," she said with some satisfaction. "His name was Berniukas."

"That's not a name, it's a word," Lucifer said, and Chloe's eyes snapped open. "Maze said you asked her to watch Beatrice," he told her. "I was curious as to why. You've been a bit . . . unsteady lately," he said, and nodded to the bed in front of her.

He sat down when she nodded, and Chloe frowned as she tipped her head.

"What do you mean 'berniukas' isn't a name?" she asked, and watched as he flicked an eyebrow up and down like a shrug.

"It's not," he said again. "It's a word. Lithuanian to be exact. It means 'boy'."

"Lithuanian?" Chloe repeated, and narrowed her eyes as her gaze lost focus. "He didn't have an accent," she denied, as she focused her mind on the man driving the car. 

"He may not have been Lithuanian himself, or he may simply have lost his accent," he said, and watched her. "You're trying to force it, aren't you?" he asked, and sighed when she nodded. "Are you sure that's wise?"

"If it is, or not, I don't care," she dismissed. "I just can't take this anymore. I'm waking up angry, and no matter what I do to try and calm myself, that anger is just below the surface all the time. And then I'm jumping if I hear a sound I don't recognize. Pieces of memories are coming at times when I can't simply sit down and deal with them. I feel like I'm losing my mind."

Lucifer nodded quietly as he considered her side of it. "How about a deal then?" he asked her, and Chloe arched a brow, her expression teasing him. "If you're going to force the memories out, then I want to be here with you. You shouldn't be alone. When the memories come to you on their own, you have a hard time distinguishing the memory you're seeing, from the reality of the world around you."

Chloe sighed as she nodded. "I actually wouldn't mind the company," she told him, agreeing to the deal. "There are a few things I wanted to show you, too. I just . . . "

"What?" he asked curiously, his brow furrowing as he watched her.

"I feel like I'm monopolizing you," she told him, her voice softer as she admitted her reluctance. "You have a lot that you're dealing with, too and - "

"And nothing," he denied her, his brows raised high as he stared at her pointedly. "I won't leave you to deal with this alone. Just like you wouldn't leave me to deal with my mother alone," he said, teasing her as he grinned. "I saw the search parameters you set up for me when you got me access to your police database. I would simply have looked for recent murders and suicides, but you set it up specifically to look for the recent deaths of transients, homeless, and runaways. You figure that if mum's laying low, then she'll kill the ones who won't be missed. Quite brilliant that."

"Thank you," she told him, and watched him nod as he offered her a smile in return. 

"What?" he asked when she tipped her head at an angle, her brow furrowed.

"I don't know," Chloe said, as she narrowed her eyes before closing them. "Do you smell that?" she asked him, and watched him shake his head, only to realize the scent must be coming from her memory. "There's some kind of smell like . . . coolant, or . . . Freon . . . "

"Chloroform," Lucifer told her, and she opened her eyes. "You've said whenever you try to remember this part specifically, the man in the car, Kari disappearing, that you get tired," he reminded her, and she nodded curiously. "Does your vision blur, in the memory?" he asked, and Chloe closed her eyes only to nod as she opened them. "Then I would say that's how you were taken. You weren't snatched, you were drugged. What else?"

Chloe closed her eyes. "It's hard to see," she said, her brow furrowing as she tried force the memory into focus. "He didn't put anything over our faces. I don't remember that. I remember . . . I told Kari not to go with him. I told her not to talk to him. I remember . . . he handed us flowers . . . little silk roses. It was just a flower, so I took it. I thought it was nice, I . . . I can't remember anything after sniffing the flower. It smelled . . ." She sighed deeply as she opened her eyes wide in disbelief. "The flower smelled like Freon."

"He put the chloroform on the flower. Smart," Lucifer said, a kind of angry grudging respect in his tone. "In essence," he told her as he met her gaze. "He made you and Kari drug yourselves."

"The boy was shaking his head," Chloe said with a sudden shake of her own head. "I remember now why he bothered me so much. He didn't say anything, but he was shaking his head. He didn't want us to take the flowers. That's why the man was angry with him."

"Then he was bait," Lucifer told her, and she frowned. "If you're a child and you're told not to talk to an adult you don't know, you'll feel more comfortable talking to an adult if they appear to be the parent of a child in your class," he reasoned, and tipped his head. "The boy was bait to make you feel safer talking to the man." 

Chloe grabbed her phone, cutting off the voice recorder as she stood quickly from the bed. Not only did what Lucifer said make perfect sense, but if the man had done it with them, he had done it with others.

"He was transferred into our class only a couple weeks before that day," she told him excitedly as she moved to leave the room. "If that boy was used as bait, then I'm certain others were, too."

"Another pattern," Lucifer said, tipping his head to her in approval of what she had learned. "Where to now?" he asked as he followed her down the stairs. 

"Now we start putting the pieces in order, and when it's time, we take a drive down to the Center for Missing and Exploited Children. There's a woman there I talked with on the phone today - well, technically yesterday," Chloe said as she looked at the clock on her phone. "She's going to be giving me access to the files for the missing children from the list you and I compiled the other day. As long as I sign them out, she's more than willing to let me bring the files back here. Any help that she can get, she wants. And if I can find a pattern between those missing kids, what I remember, and the victims I was able to locate this afternoon, then I might be able to actually piece this together."

"This afternoon?" he asked her as he followed her into the kitchen.

"I went into the station, and snuck out some cold case files. What? I called for an Uber, it's not like I walked there," she told him when she caught sight of his displeasure. 

"Call _me_ next time," he told her. 

"I didn't want to hog you," she told him, and frowned at the look of desire that crossed over his face.

"Or were you just worried that you wouldn't be able to control yourself?" he teased her, dropping his voice to a low rumble as he stepped toward her. 

"Lucifer," she warned him away, her eyes widening as he continued to advance. 

His eyes became hooded as he stared down at her, and she gasped when he growled. He growled again, and her lips parted as she panted. Chloe shivered at the contrast between the heat ricocheting through her nerves, and the cool air around her. He was teasing her, and she knew it, but her body responded all the same.

"One of these days, Detective," Lucifer purred as he backed away with a chuckle.

"Ass."

**~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~**

Chloe's lips folded in over her teeth as she bit down on the soft flesh and stared wide eyed at the road in front of them. She and Lucifer were seated in the front of his Corvette, Linda seated behind them. The closer they had gotten to Glendale, the quieter Chloe had become. She had tried to focus on something else, the soft tones of the radio, the sound of Lucifer's voice as he spoke to the psychologist riding with them, the sight of the wind blowing through the trees as they drove past them. but nothing worked. Nothing could keep her mind away from the knowledge that she would soon be sitting with Kari's mother again.

She had come to accept the idea that she had been kidnapped as well, but she was realizing very quickly that the _idea_ of something was far different than the _knowledge_ of something. She lowered her right hand to rest on the seat between her thigh and the door, hiding it from view as she fisted her hand until it hurt. She felt her anxiety rise as they turned down the street and drove past her old elementary school.

_"You weren't taken, it was just a dream. It was a nightmare. Just a nightmare."_

She could hear her mother's voice in her head repeating the words to her like a mantra. The more she heard it, the more she wanted to believe it. She hadn't been taken. She hadn't been kidnapped. She wasn't in danger. It had all been nothing more than a dream. She was fine. She was . . . going to be sick. 

Chloe opened her mouth, intending to ask Lucifer to pull the car over, when she felt him grab her hand and entwine his fingers with hers. In seconds, she felt herself calm as his strength washed over her. Like a piece of a dream, she heard his voice whisper to her, his fervent promise that he would always keep her safe. She closed her eyes as she took in a deep breath, and sank into the comfort he was offering her. 

"Better?" he asked her, his voice too soft for the woman in the back to hear.

Chloe nodded silently, and rubbed her lips together. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," he returned, and chaffed his thumb against the back of her hand. 

Linda watched the exchange with interest, her eyes slightly widened. She had seen it before, hadn't she? Lucifer often teased and annoyed the good detective, but he could calm her as well. Chloe, for all her resistance to Lucifer's flirting, could temper his rage, and focus his wild energy with barely any effort at all. In a way, that she was only barely beginning to understand, they revolved around each other like a pair of binary stars. For each weakness, or flaw one had, the other had a strength that would even them out. 

"We're here," Lucifer said needlessly, and Linda watched as he sat quietly in the front seat. 

He was giving Chloe time to be ready, and she knew without having to ask, that he wouldn't get out of the car before the detective said she was ready. It took Chloe a few minutes to gather herself together, but soon she nodded, more to herself than anyone else, and reached for the handle of the door. Lucifer stepped out, and with a nod, held the door for Linda to exit as well. She nodded her thanks to the man as she followed him and Chloe to the door of the unassuming little one and a half story house.

There was nothing intimidating about it at all. The eggshell white paint covered the outside of the home, the front door painted a dark forest green to match the shutters. The roof looked a little older, perhaps dipping a bit in some places, but overall the home had a look about it that made it feel well-loved. Linda smiled softly as she watched Lucifer take Chloe's hand, without making it obvious he was doing so, and knocked on the front door. A few seconds later, a woman about her mother's age answered the door, and Linda was struck by how similar she looked to the picture she had been shown of Kari as an adult. 

"Chloe," the woman greeted, her expression somewhere between relieved and welcoming. "You look good," she said, and stepped aside as she welcomed them into her home.

"Mrs. Andrews," Chloe returned the greeting with a nod. "This is Lucifer, he's my . . . partner," she said, and Linda wondered what word she had wanted to use instead. "And this is Dr. Martin," she introduced them.

"Linda," she said, and offered her hand to the woman. "I'm just here for a bit of support, and to try and answer what questions I can," she told the woman, and watched her nod.

Mrs. Andrews motioned for them to make themselves comfortable, before she disappeared around the corner into the kitchen.

"I was surprised to hear from you, Chloe," the woman said as she carried a tray of tea into the room, and set it down on the coffee table. "It's been so long."

"I know," Chloe said, and nodded as she swallowed thickly. "I didn't remember you," she confessed softly, her expression apologetic as she met the woman's gaze. "Until I started working this case, I didn't even remember Kari."

"I know," Mrs. Andrews said, and nodded.

Chloe stilled as she looked at the woman. "What do you mean ' _you know_ '?" she asked with wide eyes.

Mrs. Andrews sighed as she looked down into her cup of tea. Chloe wanted to demand answers from the woman. Linda could see that easily in the rigidness of the detective's posture, and the furrow of her brow. Lucifer was quicker though, and she bit her cheek to hide her knowing smile when she watched him lean forward. His voice was smooth and soft as she watched him capture the woman's gaze and encourage her to tell them what she knew. She'd seen him use that particular talent a few times before, but had come to learn that he wouldn't use it on someone he respected. At least that was her theory when it came to how he was with Chloe.

"I didn't agree with your mother's choice," she began slowly. "For that matter, neither did your father, but Penny convinced him it was for the best." She huffed in angry amusement and shook her head. "That woman could convince a politician to be a pole dancer, if she was of a mind to."

"I don't. . . ." Chloe fell silent as she shook her head. "What didn't you agree with?"

Chloe watched the older woman take in a deep breath and turn her gaze away, only to meet Lucifer's eyes. He held her under the weight of his stare, and Chloe folded her lips in over her teeth as she bit down. It was almost unfair, the way he could do that so easily. Like a cat sneaking up on its prey, he was able to subdue the woman effortlessly, and get the truth from her unresisting mind.

"There was a doctor over in Beverly Hills," Mrs. Andrews told them. "He's not there anymore. He was disbarred a few years after your mom took you to see him, but he had a rather unique practice. He worked with kids suffering from trauma. His specialty was a rather specific kind of hypnotism. He . . . he would suppress memories."

"What?" Chloe asked breathlessly as she turned to Lucifer. "That's not possible," she denied.

"Actually, it is," Linda disagreed. "The more traumatic the event, the more willing the mind will be to allow the suppression in order to protect itself."

"Go on," Lucifer instructed the woman.

"Penny said you were waking up screaming every night, sometimes multiple times a night." She paused as she released a heavy sigh. "What do you remember now?"

Chloe shook her head as she frowned. "I - I remember the car," Chloe said slowly, as she blinked. "I remember the man who took Kari," she said, her voice trailing off.

"Then you don't remember everything," Mrs. Andrews said, and Chloe snapped her head up to meet the woman's gaze. "Kari wasn't the only one taken that day, Chloe. That man took you, too."

Chloe's lips parted as she stared at the woman silently. It was one thing to hold suspicions of being taken, but it was quite another to hear that it was true. She wanted to deny it, to fall back into the sound of her mother's voice whispering to her that it was all a nightmare. That none of it had been real. She could feel the heat of Lucifer's stare on her, but couldn't move to look at him. No matter what she wanted to do, every muscle, every joint was frozen.

"Tell us what you know," Lucifer said when Chloe failed to speak.

"You both went missing that day," the woman continued, her voice subdued. "You were gone for almost three full days. It was a miracle they even found you," she said, and Chloe felt Lucifer take her hand to lend her his strength. "You were covered in scrapes and bruises. There were cuts along your arms and legs, bits of glass in the wounds. Your hands were covered in thorns. I remember because the Beverly Glen police called me first, they had the pictures mixed up and thought you were my Kari," she told Chloe, her voice breaking as she gave a soft sob. 

"I don't remember any of that," Chloe said as she came out of her stupor. "How did I escape?"

"There was blood under your nails, and in your mouth. They said you clawed and bit your way to freedom," she said, and smiled as though the thought was funny somehow. "You've always been a fighter. Even when you were little. It's no surprise you became a cop like your dad." She sipped her tea. "They said you had to have escaped through a broken window because of all the glass they pulled out of you. You kept trying to tell us where you were, but no one believed you. Everyone thought your mind had somehow changed the details to make it less scary because you said - "

"It was a Barbie house," Chloe whispered, her eyes moving back and forth as the memory resurfaced. "It was a pink and white Queen Anne Victorian," she said as she stared at nothing, the advantage of age allowing her to make sense of what she had seen as a child. "All I knew then was that it looked like Barbie's dream house."

"Do you remember where?" the woman asked desperately, and Chloe closed her eyes tightly as she cupped her forehead in her palm. "The Beverly Glen police weren't too sure that you had actually come from their city when you were found. They said you were found close to the border they shared with Bel Air. You didn't seem to know then, but do you remember now?"

"No," Chloe said, her voice strained. "Everything's in pieces. Nothing makes any sense."

The more the woman pushed Chloe for answers, the more Lucifer wanted to get her out of that house. He understood the woman's need for answers about her daughter, but he couldn't stand the thought of the damage her persistence might do to Chloe.

"Please," the woman said desperately when Lucifer stood from the couch. "Tell me about my Kari," she begged of them. "You said a case brought her back. Where is she?"

Chloe's mouth opened and closed a few times as she struggled to find the right words. In the end, she simply shook her head.

"I'm a homicide detective," Chloe said, her tone apologetic. 

"When did she die?" Mrs. Andrews probed further, and Chloe sighed.

"A little more than three weeks ago," she said softly, and watched the woman's face pale.

"What?" Mrs. Andrews said with disbelief. "My baby was alive this whole time? My baby was alive?! Where was she?!" she demanded to know.

"Burbank," Chloe answered softly, and watched as the woman's disbelief turned to anger.

"Why - " she began, and Chloe stopped her before she could go further.

"Mrs. Andrews," Chloe said, and shook her head. "Don't. You want to remember Kari as she was. Not for what they made her into."

"Where is she buried?" the woman asked, as she swallowed back her anger.

Chloe looked down before she met the woman's eyes. "There was no next of kin listed in her information, and no one came to claim her body. She was cremated and buried in Potter's Field. I'll get you the numbers you need."

"Chloe," Mrs. Andrews called to her, when she and Linda stood to follow Lucifer out. "What did they make her into? I need to know," she persisted.

"She was a sex worker," Linda said, offering the answer Chloe couldn't seem to give voice to. "They programmed her to forget everything from the life she had before they took her. Even if she saw you on the street, she may not of known who you were," she said, hoping to offer some measure of comfort to the distraught woman.

"Not my Kari," Mrs. Andrews said with disbelief as she shook her head. "Not my Kari! Why did you get out? Why didn't you bring Kari with you?" she asked, turning on Chloe.

Chloe stood frozen, not knowing what to say. She didn't have the answers the woman was looking for, and if she did, she didn't have the memories to make sense of them. Mrs. Andrews persisted, wanting to know why only one child - and not her child - had been able to break free of the kidnappers. Chloe gasped when Lucifer dragged her behind him, hiding her from the woman enraged by grief.

"Do not blame her for surviving," Lucifer snarled low, his tone dangerously quiet. "We will find and punish those responsible for what happened. We will get you what answers we can. That is what we do, but _do not_ blame her."

Chloe's hands shook as she felt Lucifer wrap his arm around her shoulders and lead her away from the house. She heard Linda's voice in the background, her offer to help the woman find a grief counselor met with anger and resentment. She couldn't focus on anything as her vision blurred, and was barely able to make out Lucifer's words as he told her to be brave for just a little bit longer. Her dad used to say that to her, didn't he?

_Be brave, princess. You are stronger than you know. Be brave just a little bit longer for me._

The memory of her father's voice faded away as her vision cleared, and Chloe blinked in confusion to find that they were back on the highway. She felt Lucifer squeeze her hand gently as she gave voice to her confusion, and it was Linda who answered her.

"You entered a fugue state," the woman told her. "Survivor's Guilt is difficult for anyone to deal with, but as a child, it would've been a lot worse. That may have been why your mother did what she did," she told Chloe. "She probably thought she was protecting you."

"I don't feel protected," Chloe denied. "I feel lied to." She felt Lucifer wrap his arm around her shoulders as she grew tired, and smiled softly when he tucked her against his side. "I just want to remember the rest."

"The memories will come with time," Linda assured her.

"We won't be back for awhile yet," Lucifer told her as he rubbed his hand against her arm. "Why don't you try to get some rest."

It didn't take much for Chloe to give in, and within moments, she was asleep. He could feel Linda's concern, and looked up to meet her gaze in the rearview mirror mounted on the dash. 

"Her nightmares will be a lot stronger tonight," Linda predicted. "A door has been opened to the rest of her memory. There's no telling what may come out in her dreams."

"So long as she doesn't try to force the memories," he said, and sighed at the congestion of the late afternoon traffic.

"She's trying to force the memories out?" Linda asked, and he nodded. "I would advise a lot of caution with doing that. She could end up hurting herself."

"How so?" Lucifer asked, as he met her gaze in the mirror.

"The stronger and more violent the memories that come out in her dreams, the more likely the possibility is that she'll sleep walk at some point," she warned him. "I've seen patients sleep walk right into the middle of traffic. Just be careful."

"We will," he assured her, and looked down at the woman tucked against his side. 

He wouldn't let anything harm Chloe, herself included. The drive back to LA was done in silence, both Lucifer and the good doctor lost in their own thoughts. There was something there just beneath the surface, but he wasn't sure yet what it was. He had a feeling though that Chloe would put the pieces together easily, and smiled softly at the thought. She had always been that way, hadn't she? When she found a connection and it had the possibility of leading her to an answer, she didn't let it go for anything, not even to save her sanity.


	8. Chapter 7

AN: Lucifer and all recognizable characters belong to Jerry Bruckheimer and FOX television. Set post 'Take Me Back to Hell'. (Written prior to the start of season 2.)

 

Summary: There is only one thing that can make an immortal vulnerable, only one thing that can hurt an angel aside from another angel - their mate. It was only a rumor, a baseless myth, something Amenadiel had never believed in, until it happened to Lucifer.

**Memento Mori**

Chapter 7

by WhisperingWolf

Chloe's eyes opened to the warm golden glow of the sunlight shining off the walls of her bedroom. Her lips parted as a smile drew them into a gentle bow, and she laughed as she stared at the ceiling. She had expected nightmares after her visit with Kari's mother, but surprisingly she hadn't had any. The past three nights had been amazingly pleasant, and she sighed with wonder and relief. She had felt more like herself over the past few days than she had in weeks. For once, there were no dreams.

"Well, no nightmares anyway," she said aloud, as she brought her hand up to fist in her mussed locks and laughed in wonder. "No, definitely not nightmares," she affirmed, and closed her eyes as she breathed in deeply.

There was no fear, no torment. She took in a deep shaking breath, only to release it in a shuddering sigh, and rubbed her thighs together beneath the cover of her blankets. She couldn't say that she wasn't waking with a racing heart, or shortness of breath. Both had been undeniably present, but so had the electric humming that seemed to encompass her entire being. The things Lucifer had done to her in her dreams had made it difficult, to say the least, to sit next to him, and work beside him as they reviewed the files her contact at the Center had gathered for her. 

How many times on their trips in his car had she found herself distracted by the sight of his long elegant fingers, piano player's hands, only to get caught staring? Instead of suspecting the true nature of her thoughts, Lucifer had looked at her in concern, and oh how guilty she had felt for not correcting his belief that she had been thinking about her childhood. What would she say if she had thought to correct him? 

_I'm not having nightmares, Lucifer, but I am waking from rather intense dreams still. Tell me, just how talented are you with those hands of yours?_

Chloe laughed, her cheeks burning with the blush that rose to color them. If she said anything of the like to him, she was pretty certain he would have pulled the car over to the side of the road and given her a live demonstration. She could only imagine the faces of passer bys if he did that. She bit her lip as she giggled, and turned her head to look at the door when she heard a rather distinct rumble as Lucifer cleared his throat.

"Now that is a most welcomed sight," he purred as he leaned casually against the open doorframe. "No dreams?" he asked, smiling as he watched her.

"Well, no nightmares, at least," she told him, and sat up slowly as her eyes remained locked with his. "You know," she said as her gaze fell to the side, and she shook her head in wonder. "I haven't had any nightmares since we saw Kari's mom. Pieces of memories are still coming back to me during the day, but it doesn't feel as threatening as it once did."

He shrugged as he studied her. "Maybe you just needed someone to confirm what you already knew," he theorized."

"Maybe," she agreed. "Maze took Trixie to school again, didn't she?" Chloe asked with amusement.

"Beatrice adores that motorcycle," he told her with a smile. "I'm fairly certain Maze is of a mind to teach her how to drive it. Or would be," he said with a tip of his head, "if the girl's legs and arms were long enough to reach all the controls."

Chloe giggled. "Well let's be thankful for small favors then," she told him, and fell back to lie on her pillows.

Her eyes closed as she breathed in deeply. She groaned in pleasure as she arched her back up off the bed, stretching her arms up above her to grab onto the carved wooden bar of her headboard, and spread her legs in a wide 'V', her toes pointed. She ended the stretch with a satisfied sigh, and sat up slowly, her ankles crossing as she pulled her legs to her chest, her arms levered behind her as she closed her eyes and smiled. 

"I feel better than I have in a while," she told him as she opened her eyes, only to be met with his wide-eyed stare. "Lucifer?"

"You don't play fair, Detective," he told her with a husky rumble, the look in his hooded eyes sending a cascade of sparks throughout her body. "I'll get breakfast going," he said before turning, and leaving the doorway. "Good to see you smiling again," he called back to her as he walked down the hallway.

Chloe released a deep sigh, and giggled as she stood up slowly from the bed.

"That's just payback for those dreams," she whispered to herself, her tongue peeking out to wet her lips. "One of us will not survive this," she told herself with humor as she gathered clothing, and went to take a shower.

**~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~**

Lucifer stood in the doorway of the kitchen watching Chloe as she moved to lift one of the boxes they had obtained from the Center. There were countless case files for kidnapped children inside, each one as disturbing as the last. She was ready to get down to work, but he wasn't. It felt wrong to spend the day engrossed in these files after learning that she was blessedly nightmare-free. Stepping up to the table, he took the file from her hand and packed it back in the box before replacing the lid.

"What are you doing?" Chloe asked him in confusion, and he grinned.

" _We_ , dear detective," he purred as he took her hand, and guided her from the table. "Are celebrating."

"Celebrating?" she asked in confusion, and looked back to the box on her table. "The case," she protested when he ushered her outside, and locked the door before dropping her keys into her hand.

"Will still be there tomorrow," he reasoned, and led her to his car, his hand in the small of her back. "Today, we celebrate."

He chuckled at the protests she offered, the words little more than token resistance, as he drove them down the street. Today there would be no work, no stress, no worries. As grateful as he was that her nightmares had given her a temporary reprieve, and he did believe it was only temporary, he wanted to take her away from all of this. She needed to relax for a few hours, forget about the lost souls, and evil humans. 

His lips pulled up to the side as he watched her relax back against the seat of his car, her head bowed over the coffee in her hands. Her simple enjoyment of the hot drink was pleasantly distracting, and he chuckled as he slowed the car when they approached a red light. It hadn't taken much, he thought with amusement. All he'd had to do was get her away from the files, put her favorite coffee in her hands, and she had given in to the idea of letting him have his way. Tomorrow they would return to her search for the truth, and his search for his mother, but today he would spoil her.

The further out he drove, the more relaxed she seemed to be, and he smiled as he watched her from the corner of his eye. She looked up at him in confusion when he pulled into a high end beauty salon and turned off the car. 

"Come along, Detective," he bid of her as he stepped out of the car.

"Lucifer, what - ?"

"Just for today," he said as he turned to face her outside the salon doors. "Let me have my way. Tomorrow you can take as much control as you want, but give me today," he requested, and watched as she acquiesced, her blue eyes staring up at him wonder.

"Ok," she agreed softly.

She bit her lip when he smiled, and he couldn't help but glance down to the plump flesh caught between her teeth. He wanted to pull her close, taste the flavor of the coffee that lingered in her mouth, and soothe the same lip she still held between her teeth. Taking in a deep breath, he shook himself from the images his mind seemed to have no problem conjuring up, and reached out for the door of the salon. Stepping back as he held the door open, he nodded to her, and waited for her to step inside ahead of him before he entered as well. 

"Serafina," he greeted the redhead as she walked up to them.

"Lucifer," she returned with a wide smile, and glanced to his side. "This must be the famous detective," she said with a grin, and a nod of greeting.

"Chloe," she introduced herself, and the woman's smile widened further.

"Serafina," Lucifer called her attention, and glanced back to his car. "Something elegant, that can withstand the wind."

"I know just the thing," she assured him with a smile. "Paulo will get you started," she told Chloe, and watched as her assistant escorted Chloe back to have her hair washed and conditioned. "She's beautiful, Lucifer. All the jealous comments from my other clients are making more sense now."

"Oh?" he asked, grinning at her with amusement.

"It seems a certain club owner's reputation as being one of the most sought after "man whores" as they like to call you," she teased him, "has cleaned up a bit. Your bartender still frolics around when she's of a mind to, but you don't." She sucked in a breath through her teeth as she smiled and tipped her head to the side. "Can't say as I blame you, though. Brave, fierce, beautiful, and with blue eyes that can hold you like that," she mused, and met his gaze. "If she weren't yours, I'd be tempted to steal her away for myself."

Lucifer chuckled. "Seduce her all you like, my dear, but I don't think you're her type."

The woman laughed at him as she looked back at Chloe. "It wouldn't matter if I was," she told him with sincerity. "That woman only has eyes for you."

**~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~**

Chloe didn't think she could make the soft grin curling her lips go away, even if she wanted to. Lucifer had told her they were celebrating today, but the first stop they had made was to a salon she couldn't have afforded even on a Lieutenant's salary. Apparently, he and Serafina were long times friends, and it wasn't because they'd slept together. No, that woman only had eyes for Mazikeen, and was quite thrilled by the bartender's adventurous bedroom activities. 

They had talked while the woman had styled her hair, the elegant waterfall braid that surrounded her head like a crown had been pulled back into an intricately woven Celtic knot bun at the back of her head. She had thought once her hair was done that would be it, but she should've known better. Lucifer didn't simply bring her there to have her hair pulled back out of her face. Serafina had spent almost two hours with her, giving her a facial, and then applying new makeup. 

She looked up as the car slowed, and felt her breath catch when she saw where he had taken them. Her painted lips curled in over her teeth as she regained her composure, only to feel unbalanced yet again when Lucifer stepped out of the car and opened her door. She slipped her hand into his outstretched palm, and smiled in wonder as he helped her from the vehicle. 

"You told me once," he reminded her, speaking to her softly, the quietness of his voice maintaining the magic of the moment. "That this was your favorite place in the city."

"It is," she agreed, her voice just as soft, and full of wonder. "Descanso Gardens," she spoke the name of their location as she stared up at their surroundings in awe. "Mom was always about the glitz and the glamour, the finer things, but Daddy," she told him with a smile. "He loved the simple things. I haven't been here since he died," she confessed, as Lucifer tucked her hand into the curve of his elbow and led her inside. "The idea of coming here alone never felt right."

"Daniel never brought you?" he asked curiously, as she looked in wonder at the beauty surrounding her.

"Dan wasn't a big fan of flowers, or the outdoors. Camping, he was ok with because it was a guy-thing, but this?" She shook her head, and felt tears prick behind her eyes at the way Lucifer made her feel. "Thank you," she said breathlessly as she turned to meet his gaze.

"You're welcome," he returned, and she leaned into his palm when he cupped her cheek in his hand. 

She walked by his side as they strolled through the gardens. Nothing was rushed, there was no pull from him for her to go faster, no impatient sighs, or glances for the time as she knew there would've been if Dan had ever thought to bring her here. She stilled as her mind replayed the thought to her, and she realized that she had never told Dan about this place, or why it meant so much to her. Lucifer knew things about her that her ex didn't. He knew her secrets, her insecurities, her desires and fears, but not Dan. 

Lucifer knew her inside and out because he wanted to, but she had only ever let Dan see what she knew he could handle. She wasn't guarded around Lucifer, she didn't feel the need to watch her surroundings because he had always made her feel safe and protected. Dan, she realized, had made her feel alone in some manner. There was nothing he had done that she could truly point out as being the cause of it, but Dan had always made her feel like she had to be the strong one. She wasn't the kind of woman who wanted to be cosseted, or treated as fragile, but with Lucifer . . . Lucifer made her feel as though she was important to him, above and beyond anything else. She could let her guard down with him, and it was a powerful feeling to be so vulnerable for someone else.

Chloe gasped as her eyes came to rest on a wrought iron sign standing next to a weeping willow. Her hand covered her mouth as she felt tears fill her eyes, her heart burning with the pain of being broken by the grief for the father she had lost, and the love he had always bestowed upon her. She read the words carved into the metal a second and third time as a few of the tears gathered in her eyes spilled onto her cheeks.

"Chloe?" Lucifer called to her, and she knew he was concerned, but didn't have the voice to speak. 

"Daddy," she whispered, the sound of it muffled by her hand, as she began to cry.

Lucifer stared at her in concern, not understanding the sudden outpouring of emotion, and wrapped his arms around her when she turned to bury her face in his chest. He whispered to her, tried to soothe her as he held her, and looked down to the sign that had caused her tears.

"Planted on the day of her birth, and commemorated by request after his death, this weeping willow was donated by Alvar Decker in dedication to his daughter, Chloe Decker. 'She is as strong and beautiful as the weeping willow, taking her where the wind blows while standing strong against all the storms that may come.' The weeping willow has long been held as a symbol of longevity, strength, and an enduring spirit by several cultures of the word," Lucifer read the placard out loud. "He never told you, did he?" he asked Chloe, and felt her tremble as she shook her head and cried in his arms.

"Whenever he brought me here," Chloe said as she pulled back, and dried her eyes. "We would sit under this tree. He used to tell me that all of this was for me," she told him, and took in a shaking breath.

"He loved you," Lucifer told her, and watched her nod as more tears spilled from her eyes. "Do you want to sit for awhile?" he asked her, and smiled when she nodded silently, her lip caught between her teeth. 

He took her hand as he led her under the long ribbons of the tree's branches, the waterfall curtain of the weeping willow offering them a kind of sanctuary. Moving to sit with his back against the wide trunk, his legs spread and bent at the knees, he reached out for Chloe.

"Come here, you," he bid of her, and smiled when she turned to sit down with her back against his chest. 

He wrapped his arms around her when she leaned back against him, her head resting against his shoulder as she looked out at the gardens surrounding them. Sunlight broke through the cover of the other trees, patches of golden light dancing on the emerald grass as the trees danced and swayed in the gentle breeze. He smiled when he felt Chloe lift her arms to rest on top of his, her fingers tracing flowing designs absently on the back of his hand. 

Lucifer knew the moment she fell asleep in his arms, the feel of her body relaxing completely against him as she turned her face into the curve of his throat. He turned his head to press a kiss to her cheek, before leaning his head to rest against hers. He closed his eyes as he held her and breathed in deeply of the fragrant air around them, as he enjoyed the simplicity of the moment. 

His life had always been about forward movement, change and chaos. The last time he could remember slowing down enough to take in the simple pleasure of sitting beneath a tree like this had been back before everything that had happened. Back when he went by the name Samael. Back when it didn't hurt to remember who he had been. He turned away from everything his father stood for, being as much of a polar opposite as he could be, if only to run away from the devastating ache of the memories that still had the power to break him.

With Chloe, he found peace. She trusted him, completely and unconditionally. She never looked for him to betray her, never stood in judgment of him, or tried to change who he was. Tendrils of her hair tickled against his cheek, the fine strands lifted by the breeze around them, and he breathed in deeply as he tightened his embrace to hold her closer. As much as she bantered and even fought with him, was as much as she balanced him. 

When he had felt vulnerable and broken, enraged and grieving by the loss of a man he had never expected to care for, she had come to him. She hadn't asked him for anything, or held any expectations of the moment. She hadn't scoffed at , or dismissed him as Mazikeen had. No, he thought, as he stared down at the woman in his arms. Chloe had sat with him, shared the scotch in his glass as she played 'Heart and Soul' on the piano with him, and had even let him guide her through a few other simple duets before they'd moved to sit on his couch. She had held him as he'd let her toy with his hair, and she'd comforted him as he fell asleep in her arms that night. 

He released an amused snort, and shook his head as he reluctantly gave voice to a truth he had been afraid of before this moment.

"You are my heaven," he whispered to her, and let his head fall back against the rough bark of the tree behind him with a heavy sigh. "What am I going to do with you now?"

Chloe hummed a few moments later as he felt her wake, and smiled softly as he watched her turn her head to meet his gaze. She hadn't meant to fall asleep, but he denied her attempt to apologize for having done so. He kissed her brow before asking her if she was ready to move on, and smiled when she nodded, the expression on her face full of wonder and delight. Lucifer smiled when he felt her take his hand, and let her lead him through the gardens as she told him about her father. 

This had been their place, their sanctuary. Her mother had never wanted to come here with them, and that had been fine by her. Descanso Gardens had been their secret place, and now it was theirs. He knew she hadn't realized what she said to him, and smiled as he tucked the memory away. She was mortal, he thought as he looked around. Someday, all too soon, she would be gone from him, but this place would be how he remembered her. 

"Fancy meeting you here," a voice called to him, and Lucifer stiffened as he tried to push down the growl rumbling at the back of his throat.

"Gabriel," Lucifer greeted his brother, arching a brow at the sight of his suit. "Detective, this wanker is my brother, Gabriel," he introduced, and was soothed by the sound of her giggle.

"Luci always did have quite the way with words," Gabriel said, and rolled his eyes in amusement. "Detective," he greeted her.

"Chloe," she offered her name with a kind smile. "You've got quite the eclectic family, Lucifer," she told him with a teasing grin, and he smiled down at her.

"Yes, they all seem to be popping up like daisies lately," he said, and delighted in the way Chloe's eyes widened with amusement before she laughed.

"Mulan?" she teased him, forgetting about their visitor for the moment, and watched as he shrugged.

"She adores it," he told her, and watched her smile. 

"Anyway," Gabriel said, calling their attention back to him. "I was just passing through and thought I would say hello. It was nice to meet you, Chloe. Brother," he nodded to Lucifer.

Lucifer returned the gesture, his chin tipping up in suspicion as he watched his brother leave. Gabriel didn't just happen upon them, and he knew that. He wasn't sure what his brother's intention had been, but had watched as Gabriel had looked between himself and Chloe only to come to some kind of a decision. Whatever that decision was, Lucifer didn't know, but wasn't certain if he could trust it. He and Gabriel had been thick as thieves once, as close as twins, but all that had changed. Until recently, he hadn't seen his brother since The Fall, and he didn't know what to make of it now.

"Are you ok?" Chloe asked, and he looked down to meet her gaze. "You've been really quiet."

"It's nothing, darling," he told her, and sighed when he realized she wouldn't allow him to dismiss her concern so easily. "Family reunions have never been a good thing in my experience, and they've been happening more often of late."

"You don't get along?" she asked, and he offered her a half hearted smile.

"A bit more complicated than that, but yes. They'd rather see me back in Hell, than here living the life I want," he said, his voice soft.

"If your family wants you unhappy so badly," Chloe said, her voice hard and cold as ice. "Then they're going to have to go through me to get you."

"My little warrior," he teased her with a smile. "Chloe Decker, protector of the Devil."

"Damn right I am," she teased him in return, the gentle bow of her smile backed by the sincerity in her eyes.

**~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~**

Lucifer smiled with amusement when Chloe turned to stare up at him in wonder and disbelief. He hadn't told her where they were going when they'd left the gardens, but now here they stood in front of the Griffith Observatory. He held the door for her as they stepped inside, and purchased their tickets without a moment's hesitation. There had been no question as to how long she wanted to stay, or what she might want to see, the package he purchased for them both covering every possibility and exhibit they had to offer.

He reached for her, smiling when she took his hand, and guided her in through the doors of the planetarium. He watched her look at everything with an almost childlike wonder as they walked through the rooms. She stayed near him, never moving too far away. The look in her eyes held his gaze mercilessly, catching him off guard. Her desire to have him near, the gratitude for all they had done so far, and the affection she held for him, held him silent as he felt alarmingly vulnerable under the weight of her stare. She turned away a moment later, and he turned to look up at the gallery of Hubble photos in front of him.

The sound of Chloe's voice called to him, and he followed her into the science theatre as the doors opened. They were two of only five people in the room when the doors closed, and he smiled at the darkness that surrounded them when the lights turned off. He stood with her in the center of the darkened theatre, his arms wrapped around her from behind, and took comfort in the simple pleasure of being with her.

"Thank you for bringing me here," she told him softly as she turned her head to look back at him.

The darkness surrounding them gave the illusion that they were alone, the wide expanse of the room allowing the other few patrons to separate out to other corners. If anyone else was talking, they couldn't be heard, and he smiled at the way Chloe's eyes searched him out, as soft music began to play. 

"You're welcome," he told her, smiling at the sound of a cello and piano that began to float around them. "The day's not done yet, darling."

"There's more?" she asked with quiet wonder.

"Between us?" he teased her with a grin, his eyes watching the emotions pass across her face. "There's always more."

He kissed her brow before she turned her attention back to the dark walls in front of them, and he heard her gasp as the video began to play. The colors of the Pillars of Creation nebula shone across the curved walls in a startling array of unmatched beauty, and he smiled at the way Chloe leaned back against him. Her arms crossed over the tops of his as they stood in silence, watching the stars and nebulae play across the walls in front of them, the darkness hiding them as it offered them a sanctuary for the quiet intimacy of the experience.

Chloe's wistful hum drew his attention, and Lucifer turned his eyes to her as she looked up to meet his gaze. She laughed softly as she turned back to the video in front of them and nodded at the image playing in the center of the screen. A pair of binary stars rotated around each other, their bright white tails of light intertwined, and Chloe smiled as she leaned back against him. For almost an hour now they had stood in comfortable silence as they watched different parts of the night sky play out on the darkened walls of the science theatre. The easy serenity they both found in each others' presence had made the outing unforgettable, and delicate.

"For all his rough edges," Chloe told him softly, "Daddy was an old romantic. He took me to this planetarium all the time when I was a kid. He used to say that binary stars weren't stars at all."

"Oh?" Lucifer asked her curiously. 

"Mhmm," she hummed her reply. "He used to say that they were the souls of two star-crossed lovers who wanted nothing more than to be together for all eternity, and so they had promised the moon anything if only they could stay together forever. The moon made the souls into stars, letting them orbit and dance around each other until the end of time."

He chuckled softly at her words, and smiled as he rested his chin on top of her head as he hugged her close. It was a terribly romantic notion, but it was beautiful even if it was a bit sad. He would never tell her that he had been the one to light the stars his brother had created, or that he had been the one to join binary stars together. He had done so out of a moment of inspiration. His eyes fell to the side as the wistfulness left him, and a lonely ache took its place. 

Samael had been the one to light the stars, to create the pairs of binary stars. Maybe he and Samael were the same person, but that version of himself had died a long time ago. He closed his eyes as he fought to push the memories back, hiding them away in the darkness of his mind once more. He wouldn't ruin this moment for her, he wouldn't spoil everything he had here with Chloe because of the painfulness of his past. 

It took him a few moments to steady himself, and when he opened his eyes, he found her to be looking back at him. Whether he said anything, or not, it didn't matter. She always seemed to know when he was unsteady, or upset in any manner. The smile he offered her didn't reach his eyes, and he knew that she could somehow feel his pain in the way that she continued to stare up at him. She didn't say anything as she nodded to the carpeted floor next to them, and he offered her a nod in return as he released her to sit down.

He chuckled softly when Chloe pushed against his shoulder until he was laying back on the floor, and then curled into his side, before resting her head on his chest. The video had another hour to play, and he kissed her hair as he held her. How was it that she could always find a way to soothe him, to heal him, without ever needing to speak a word? The ache in his chest eased as a slow burn took its place, and in that moment he knew that if he ever lost her, he would lose himself. 

He closed his eyes as he admitted his fear to himself. Gabriel's presence made him unsteady and uncomfortable, not because of what they had once shared, but because of what he was afraid his brother would take away. Gabriel may not have been in the final fight that cast him from Heaven and into Hell, but neither had his brother stood by his side, either. They had created their own language once out of the music of the wind blowing through the trees, but those days were long gone and little more than ash in the annals of time. 

He had found something good here, something that was his alone. For the first time in a long time, he had begun to feel whole again, and the closer he and Chloe grew, the more he feared that his siblings, or his father would try to separate them. They would take her away from him because they wanted to, because they thought he didn't deserve her, or happiness, or any number of other reasons. He had been his Father's favorite son at one time, but for millennia, he hadn't felt like he was anything other than a hated mistake. Chloe made him feel worthy. 

He gasped at the feel of her pressing a kiss to his cheek, and closed his eyes before he turned to meet her gaze. The light of the stars surrounding them let him see into her eyes, and he watched her as she studied him. She didn't care how much he could give her, all she had ever cared about was the man, and he didn't know why someone like her had been given to someone like him, but he would do everything in his power to keep her safe. Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled her down to lie on his chest, and closed his eyes as the rest of the video played through.

The video came to an end a while later, the room falling back into blinding darkness, and he felt her move as she prepared to stand. He joined her as the lights rose slowly, a soft gold glow filling the room before bright white light took its place, and he followed her out into the observatory. He was content to let her lead him through the exhibits and galleries, and smiled any time she stopped to play with the interactive features.

"Have you ever brought Beatrice here?" he asked her curiously when he caught her watching a mother with her child.

"No," Chloe said with a laugh, the idea of it amusing her. "Trixie likes stars, but she is much more of a fan of dinosaurs and sharks. Basically anything loud, scary, and big enough to eat a person."

Lucifer chuckled at that, and smiled as he looked up at the clock on the wall. It was nearing three, and he shook his head when he realized that they hadn't eaten anything since nine that morning. Trixie would be getting out of school soon, and if they left now, they would be just in time to pick her up. Sharing the information with Chloe, he watched her smile as she nodded in approval, and led her out of the building. 

The drive across town to the girl's school didn't take long, and Lucifer shook his head when he heard the girl's excited shout of his name. He stood waiting and braced himself for the impact when she barreled into him. 

"Good afternoon, small human," he greeted her, and smiled when she laughed at his teasing. "Are you hungry?" he asked her, and felt her mother's curious stare. 

"I can always eat!" she told him cheerfully, and Lucifer laughed.

"That much I do know," he returned with a chuckle. "I don't know where you put it all," he said, as he led Chloe and her daughter back to his car. "Have you had Indian food?"

"Like punjabi?" Trixie asked excitedly.

"Exactly like," he told her, and watched her smile widen. "You approve, I take it?" he asked, watching as she climbed into the back seat and buckled herself in.

"I love Indian food!" the girl cheered happily. "Mommy and I try one ethnic food a month. I like Ethiopian and African food, too," she told him.

"Well then," he told her, and glanced at Chloe with a smile. "It's a good thing we're on our way to Badmaash then," he said, telling her the name of the restaurant.

Trixie's excitement grew, and he laughed at the way she bounced in her seat. He watched Chloe shake her head in amusement, and listened as she told him of her daughter's love for the restaurant. A man who had no problem with Trixie calling him 'Ben' was a server there, and would often come by their table to visit while they were there, even if he wasn't the one serving them. The waiter's actual name was Bahadur, but for her daughter, he was 'Ben'.

It didn't take them long to get the restaurant and settle down for their meals. Trixie's friend stopped by their table a few times, and Lucifer surprised both mother and child by speaking to the man in his native Hindi. He watched in surprise as Trixie caught on quickly, picking up on a few words, and stumbled over their pronunciation when she tried to repeat them back. He had smiled and nodded at her request that he teach her the language, chuckling when 'Ben' had called her princess in Hindi and taught her to say the word.

"Seriously, where do you put it?" Lucifer asked Trixie almost an hour later when they finished their meals. 

The girl had eaten all of her meal, which had not been a small plate, as well as shared almost half of her mother's. He knew that while Chloe had eaten to her fill, she didn't have nearly a big enough appetite to finish the plate, but her daughter certainly did. Trixie laughed at him when he stared wide eyed at her request for desert. 

"She could eat a horse on her own," Chloe told him with a laugh, and he stared at the child in disbelief.

"Clearly," he agreed with humor. "Well, let's get that beast fed."

She was a small black hole, he thought as he watched the child pack away the food. The most amusing and disbelieving part of it all, was that he knew in under an hour, she would be hungry again. How Chloe managed to keep any food in the house at all was beyond him. She practically needed her own restaurant to keep the child fed. He looked up at the sound of Chloe's laugh, and met her gaze. 

"This is nothing," she told him with a grin. "Just wait until you see her with a pizza. She can eat an entire large pizza on her own, and down an order of hot wings, and an ice cream sundae on top of it all."

"How?" he asked incredulously.

"I have no idea," Chloe told him with a laugh. "And not only can she eat like that all the time, but I swear she doesn't gain an ounce. I'm a bit jealous to be honest."

"As are supermodels everywhere," he teased back. "Are you ready, moppet?" he asked when the girl pushed the plate away, and sat back against her chair.

"I think so," Trixie said, her head tipped in thought. 

"What are you thinking about, monkey?" Chloe asked, and winked at Lucifer.

"Trying to decide what I want for dinner," she said, and Lucifer's eyes widened.

"After all that, and you're still thinking about food?" he asked, and Trixie frowned as though he had asked her something obvious.

"Of course I am," she answered with a shrug. "Food is important."

Lucifer stared at her in disbelief as her mother helped her from the table, and followed them back out to his car. 

"We're not going home?" Trixie asked a while later, her brow furrowed in confusion.

"We can if you want," Lucifer told her. "But I thought you might like to go the Natural History Museum." Her gasp of delight made him smile, and he looked back at her as he slowed to stop at a red light. "What do you say, moppet?"

"Can we mommy?" she asked as she stared at Chloe with excitement. "I want to go see the dinosaurs!"

"Ok baby," Chloe agreed, and laughed at her daughter's cheers. "You just made her day," she told Lucifer, and he smiled as he met her gaze.

"Like I said before, Detective," he reminded her with a grin. "The day's not over yet."

**~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~**

Chloe shook her head in amazement as she watched Lucifer lift Trixie into his arms, holding the girl to his shoulder as she slept. It had been difficult to reign in her daughter's excitement when they'd visited the museum. There were times when they'd had to run to keep up with her, but throughout the entire visit, Trixie hadn't let go of Lucifer's hand once. He hadn't said anything about it, or tried to get her to release him. He had let her keep hold of him, at times dragging him about like a rag doll.

And just when Chloe had believed the day to be over, Lucifer had driven them down to the Santa Monica pier to ride the Ferris wheel. In moments of the ride lifting them off the ground, Trixie had fallen asleep between them. She walked beside Lucifer as he carried her daughter out of the park, and watched him sit her carefully in the backseat before taking off his suit jacket to cover her with it like a blanket. He fastened the seatbelt around her, and Chloe stared at him in wonder.

Every single time she thought she had him figured out, he went a threw her for a loop. Today had been no exception. He had told her he had wanted to celebrate, but instead of drinks, or a simple meal, he had spent the day spoiling her. And then, when Trixie had been done with school and she had believed a return to the real world was imminent, he had surprised her again. She hadn't seen her daughter so happy before, and knew that this would only endear the man in question to her all the more.

"Thank you," Chloe said as he pulled into her driveway. "Today has been amazing," she told him, and watched him smile.

"You're welcome," he told her breathlessly. "I've got her," he said when they exited the car, and Chloe smiled as she watched him gather Trixie from the back seat. 

"You spoiled us," she teased him quietly, as she unlocked the door and let him step inside ahead of her.

"You're worth spoiling," he told her honestly, and she felt her breath catch. 

Chloe watched him from the doorway of her daughter's room as Lucifer laid the girl down in her bed and removed her shoes. She smiled when he tucked her daughter beneath the blankets, before standing, and slipping back into his suit jacket. He followed her out of the room, closing the door as they left, and lifted his hand to touch the intricate design of her hair. It was still held perfectly in place despite all of the day's activities. 

"I think she secured it with magic," Chloe teased, smiling as Lucifer studied her hair. "I've touched it a few times, but haven't felt any pins. I don't know how it's kept in place."

He hummed his reply as he stepped around behind her, and seconds later she gasped at the feel of his hands in her hair. His long fingers expertly released the woven bun, only to sink deeper into her hair as he undid the braid that surrounded the crown of her head. Heat spiraled through her at his touch, and her eyes fell closed as her lips parted. There was an intimacy in the simple act of him letting down her hair that turned her knees to jello, and made it impossible for her to speak.

Moments later, he fluffed her hair as he moved it to cascade freely over her shoulders, before stepping around in front of her. 

"Good night, Chloe," he told her, and kissed her brow before he stepped back and left her house.

"Oh my god," Chloe whispered to herself in wonder a few moments later, and shook her head as she giggle. "Today was a date."

She let her head fall back as she bit her lip and smiled. He had taken her out to places that were special to her, spoiled her and her daughter. He hadn't let her pay for a thing, and though he hadn't said as much aloud, she had come to realize that that was exactly what the day had been. A date. Chloe moved into her bedroom, and fell back to lie on her bed with a laugh as she stared up at the ceiling.

"Oh daddy," she said as she looked up at the ceiling, imagining her father could hear her. "He really does make me happy. Happier than I've ever been."

She giggled when she looked down at her ringing phone to see it was Lucifer calling her. Answering his call on the second ring, she hummed a greeting, and smiled at the sound of his pleasure.

"I'm glad you had a good time, Chloe," he told her, the sound of her name on his lips melting her inside. "Maze found a few leads that we need to check out. I may not see you for the next few days, but call me if you need me, alright?"

"Ok," she agreed easily. "Be safe, Lucifer. I don't want to see you get hurt."

"I'll be just fine," he assured her. "Sleep well, darling."

"Good night," she returned softly, and closed her eyes with a dreamy sigh as she let her hand fall to the bed beside her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If any of you are curious, I typically write while having this and similar music videos playing on the PS3.
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WU7SGn0MeP0
> 
> The music featured in is amazing and come from such artists as Two Steps From Hell, Audiomachine, Future World Music, and Really Slow Motion


	9. Chapter 8 "Lucifer's Bear"

AN: Lucifer and all recognizable characters belong to Jerry Bruckheimer and FOX television. Set post 'Take Me Back to Hell'. (Written prior to the start of season 2.)

 

Summary: There is only one thing that can make an immortal vulnerable, only one thing that can hurt an angel aside from another angel - their mate. It was only a rumor, a baseless myth, something Amenadiel had never believed in, until it happened to Lucifer.

**Memento Mori**

Chapter 8

**_"Lucifer's Bear"_ **

by WhisperingWolf

Chloe crouched down to climb into the cabinet beneath the sink, and reached for the files she had hidden away there. It was a strange thing, the way the animosity she'd received from Lucifer's ninja bartender had disappeared almost overnight. Ever since the two had paired up to find Malcolm and Lucifer, Mazikeen had seemed to have come to some kind of a decision, and now instead of pushing Chloe away, she seemed to be welcoming her in. It may be odd, Chloe thought, but she definitely appreciated the change. 

Smacking her head on the underside of the sink when she felt something grab her ankle, Chloe edged out from underneath the sink slowly, and turned to meet her daughter's eyes. Trixie looked ready to cry, and she didn't understand what had happened. Watching as her daughter's bottom lip trembled and tears swam in her eyes, Chloe took her phone from the girl's hand and frowned in worry.

"Baby, what's wrong?" Chloe asked, smoothing away her daughter's tears when they fell.

"I wanted to talk to Daddy," she said, and looked down at the phone in her mother's hand. "I know it was wrong, but I took your phone so I could call him."

"Baby, it's ok," Chloe soothed her distraught child.

"Daddy got really mad at me," she said softly, and sniffled. "He wants to talk to you."

"Ok," Chloe said softly. "Baby, why don't you go to your room, okay? Just while I talk with him?"

Trixie nodded miserably as she turned and ran for her bedroom. The sound of her door closing broke the silence a few seconds later, followed closely by the sound of her soft sobs. She felt the anger boiling within her as she stood and took the call off mute before bringing the phone to her ear.

"What the hell did you say to her?" she demanded softly, her emotions caught between her anger at him, and the pain she felt for how her daughter was hurt.

"Me?!" Dan snarled, and she pulled back from the phone with wide eyes. "What about you? Tricking me into taking a call from her when you know damn well I don't want to speak with her while I'm in here. Or what about that fancy lawyer you had your boyfriend send me?"

"What?" Chloe asked confused. "What are you talking about?"

"You're going to play the dumb card with me?" he asked her heatedly. "I don't need charity from him, so whatever you did to get that lawyer from him, just tell him it was a freebie."

Her eyes were wide as she leaned back against the counter, and shook her head as tried to understand who the person on the other end of the phone call was. It couldn't be Dan. The anger and hatred in his voice were something she'd never heard from him before. Closing her eyes as she took in a steadying breath, she closed the cabinet door and moved into the living room.

Chloe sat down slowly on the couch, her hand cupping her forehead, as she held her phone to her ear. She had told him more than a few times that their daughter understood where he was, and why he was incarcerated, but it didn't matter to him. He was adamant in his refusal to allow Trixie to visit him in jail, regardless of whether their child had been the one to make the request, or not. All the girl wanted was to see her father, to tell him that she still loved him, even if she didn't fully understand all that he had done. But Dan refused. 

"At least talk to her," Chloe pleaded softly, and closed her eyes as he refused once again. "Dan, she doesn't understand why you don't want to see her," she told him. 

"Chloe," his voice came over the line in a low growl. "No. I won't tell you again," he said as though he were speaking to a misbehaving child. "And don't you dare just put her on the phone, either, because I'll hang up."

"You're her _father_ ," she told him, feeling hurt for her child and angry at the man who was causing it.

The laugh that came over the line lacked any humor, and Chloe frowned as she pulled the phone away from her ear to stare at it, only to return it to her ear once more when he began speaking.

"Are you so sure of that?" he asked her, and Chloe reeled back as though she'd been struck. 

"What?" she asked breathlessly.

"For the past several months, hell, ever since you started working with him, all Trixie could talk about was 'Lucifer this', or 'Lucifer that'," he said, the anger and jealousy in his voice making Chloe pull in on herself, as though preparing for a fight. 

"He's her friend," she reasoned, fighting against the anger she felt. 

"Oh?" he asked with a spiteful laugh. "A grown man friends with an eight year old? You really think that's all that's there is?"

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" Chloe growled, her anger finally more powerful than she could control. "Who's been feeding you these thoughts? You were never like this before!"

"Me?! What about you?" he snarled in return. "We were barely separated, and suddenly he's your shadow."

"We were separated for a _year_ before Lucifer came into our lives, Dan," she snapped at him. "A _year_. And not once in that time did you make the effort, or even give any indication that you wanted to get back together. Not once!"

"You're my wife, I shouldn't have to," he told her coldly.

" _Ex_ -wife," she stressed. "And I'm not some possession." She shook her head as she fought for control over her emotions. "While you're laying blame where it doesn't belong, why don't you think about this: I was shot, I took two bullets on that first case I worked with Lucifer. I was in the hospital for two weeks, and he came to see me every day. He even sat with Trixie when Officer Carmichael brought her over from school on the days you couldn't be bothered to pick her up, but you didn't come to see me once. You didn't come to pick up Trixie from the hospital, Lucifer was the one to deliver her to her babysitter, when she couldn't pick her up herself. You didn't even drive me home from the hospital. Lucifer did that, too."

" _Thirty seconds, Espinosa_ ," a voice in the background called out.

"Desk sergeant said you were fine. It's not like you were going to die," he said casually, as though it didn't matter. "And he was only there because he felt guilty and wanted to get into your pants."

Chloe sat in silence, her mouth open as she struggled to say something, anything, but in the end simply hit the end call button on her phone. How many times had he told her he was just busy? How many times had he made excuses as to why he couldn't be there? And now, when he was angry enough not to care, he told her the truth. It didn't matter to him that she had been shot. Her _life_ didn't matter to him. 

"Mommy?" 

Chloe closed her eyes as she forced her emotions down and blinked quickly to rid herself of the tears that had gathered in her eyes. Turning back to look at her daughter with a smile, she tried to keep Trixie from seeing just how much the conversation had rattled her. 

"Hey Trixie-babe," she greeted her daughter, and watched the girl tip her head.

"We're not going to go visit Daddy, are we?" Trixie asked, her voice subdued and far too old for a child so young.

"No, baby, were not," Chloe said softly, and patted the couch next to her. "Come here, baby."

"Daddy won't talk to me," she said sadly, and leaned against her mother when Chloe wrapped her arm around her. "He was so mad at me for calling. I've never heard him that mad before. Do you think we could visit him if I'm good?"

"Baby, no," she was quick to reassure her daughter. "It's not you. Daddy's just having a really hard time adjusting to being where he is," Chloe said, telling herself it wasn't a complete lie, as she tried to excuse his behavior.

"Mommy." Chloe looked down when Trixie fell silent, and met her daughter's gaze, the pained sadness in her eyes something she had hoped to never see. "Billy told me he only had a mommy because he was a mistake. Was I a mistake?" she asked slowly, and Chloe breathed in sharply.

"No, baby," she denied, her heart aching for her child, as she shook her head. "I wanted you very much."

"But Daddy didn't want me?" she asked, crestfallen, as she picked up on what hadn't been said. "Did I do something wrong?"

Chloe didn't know how to answer her daughter's question. She wanted to assure her that her father had wanted her, but she had promised herself that she wouldn't lie to her daughter. The indecision kept her silent, and she watched as the tears in her daughter's eyes fell onto her cheeks. All the broken promises, the times when Dan hadn't picked her up from school until it was late enough that the office had already called her to gather the girl instead, the times he had cancelled the weekend he was supposed to have with his daughter, it all came back to Chloe in a never ending loop. 

She closed her eyes as she tried to search for something to tell her daughter, a memory in which he had been there for her. Instead of Dan, her memories showed her all the times Lucifer had been there with them. The times he had shown up unannounced, surprising her, and getting welcomed by her daughter with an exuberant embrace. All the times she had found Trixie at LUX, or up in Lucifer's penthouse, talking to the man, or sitting beside him on the piano bench as he taught her to play. Rubbing her daughter's shoulder, she reached for her phone, and dialed the number she had long since memorized.

"Mm, Detective, I was just thinking about you," Lucifer purred in lieu of a proper greeting, and Chloe chuckled softly.

"Hey," she greeted him quietly, and glanced down at her daughter to find the girl had drifted into a light slumber. "Do you have any plans for this evening?" she asked, and rolled her eyes at the suggestive sound he made.

"Why Detective Decker," he intoned playfully. "Whatever are you planning?"

"Dinner," she responded with a bit of humor, her soft voice catching him off guard. "With me and Trix."

Lucifer was silent for a moment, and Chloe bit her lip. "What did that moron say to her?" he asked, and she swore she could almost see the expression on his face. "If it was just you wanting my company, you would simply have come over as you've done in the past," he told her when she remained silent. "But you're asking me to have dinner with the both of you, which means Beatrice is upset."

"She called down to the prison to talk to him, and he got really mad at her for calling," Chloe told him quietly, her voice choked. "She wouldn't tell me exactly what he said, but he's refusing any contact from her at all."

"Chloe?" he called to her when she breathed roughly, choking back the tears clogging her throat. 

"She asked me if she was a mistake," she whispered, the words too painful to be spoken any louder. "She asked if he wanted her, because he refuses to see her, or talk to her . . . She asked me if she had done something wrong, if he would want to see her if she was good," she told him, her words ending in a whimper, as she fought not to cry at the pain she knew her daughter was in.

He was quiet for so long that she feared he had hung up, and checked to make sure the call was still active. When he had first answered the call, it had sounded like he was on the road, but all too soon the background noises had fallen away. She wondered if he had returned to the club, if he had shut himself away inside. 

"Chloe," he called her name gently after a moment. "Your door?" he asked, and she frowned.

"It's unlocked," she answered without giving his question too much thought, and looked up when her front door opened. "Thank you," she mouthed the words as he stepped inside.

Lucifer nodded silently as he stepped over to the couch and looked down at them. He could see the upset furrowing the child's brow as she slept, and reached down to touch her hair. It was a constant source of frustrating amusement for him, his affection for this tiny human. He didn't like children, he never had, but he liked this one. She always greeted him excitedly with open arms, and though still reluctant, he had come to accept her embraces.

"Come back to LUX with me," he made the offer softly, keeping his voice low so as not to wake the child. "I'll make you both some dinner, and your spawn can watch Zootopia."

Chloe laughed softly, a smile brightening her features as he held her gaze. "How many movies have you bought just because she likes them?" she asked him, teasing him as he moved to sit down beside Trixie, the girl tucked in between them.

"Not that many," he deflected her question, and offered her a lopsided grin. "Ten, maybe twelve," he said, and she shook her head as she smiled. 

"How is it that you can always make us feel better?" she asked, not noticing her slip.

"Would that be the both of you, then?" he asked, his brow arching as he stared at her suggestively when she blushed. "Now isn't that just a delicious color," he teased her.

"You're such an ass," she parried softly, her gaze falling to his lips as she remembered the kiss they had shared almost two weeks prior. 

He lifted his hand to her face, cupping her cheek in his palm as he stared into her eyes. Her lips parted as she stared at him, wanting him in that moment, needing so much to feel and taste his kiss. Part of her was afraid of what would happen if they kissed again, if they took it any further. But there was another part of her, and it was slowly growing stronger, that needed to be closer to him. She desired his touch more and more to the point where he seemed to be invading her dreams every night. 

The silent moment they shared was broken seconds later when the child between them stirred, and Lucifer dropped his hand as he turned his attention down to Trixie. He watched her look up at him, her brow furrowing as it took her a moment to realize he was truly there with her. He had expected her exuberance, her elation, only to be surprised when she simply tucked herself under his arm against his side. She wrapped her arms around him as she began to tremble, and Lucifer sighed as he lifted her to sit astride his lap, holding her close as she began to cry. 

"It's alright, moppet," he soothed her as he petted the child's hair. 

She was so young, and he had known from the first day he met her that she had been caught between her parents at every turn. It was in the way she would look to her father, but wouldn't move to hug him. In the time he had known her, he had come to learn that she was very cautious in doling out affection to Detective Douche, as though she was never quite certain it would be returned. He had seen her run to hug her mother, and had been on the receiving end of her embraces more times than he cared to count, even watched her greet Mazikeen with excitement, but never once had he seen her do the same with Dan. 

"You've got me, Beatrice," he promised the girl as he held her. He hated to see an innocent soul hurt, and she had been hurt more than once by the dimwit who sired her. "You want, I could punish him for you," he offered, and was met with her mother's disapproving glare.

His words did the trick, though, and he smiled in triumph when Trixie laughed. "He made mommy cry, too," she whispered in his ear, and Lucifer rubbed her back.

"I know," he told her softly, and watched Chloe frown in question, not having heard what her daughter told him. "You know, moppet," he said casually as he held her. "I was out earlier, shopping for a few things, and a little bauble caught my eye. It's hideous really, but I got it anyway. Made me think of you," he told her, and met her gaze when she lifted her head from his shoulder. 

"What is it?" she asked him with a curious frown.

"You'll have to see for yourself," he told her. "Wouldn't blame you one bit if you hate the bloody thing though. It's back at LUX. Thought I might take you and your mum back there tonight."

"Yeah?" she asked him, and turned her hopeful gaze on her mother. "Can we, mommy?"

"Yeah," Chloe answered with a nod, and offered Lucifer a grateful smile. "Thank you," she told him, and he felt his heart burn and flutter as a rush infused him.

"You're welcome," he answered softly, his voice choked and gaze almost shy. He shook himself free of the feeling a moment later, and returned his gaze to the girl in his lap. "Tell me, Beatrice, what sounds good to eat?"

"Hmm," she mused as she bit her lip in thought. "Can you make enchiladas?" 

"I think I could," he said with a nod. "You think you and your mum could help out with the salsa?" he asked, and winked at Chloe.

"Yeah!" Trixie cheered, and Lucifer found himself suddenly full of the child as she hugged her arms around his neck and buried her face in his shoulder. "Thank you, Lucifer. You always make everything better," she whispered to him, her voice choked, and he felt unaccountably vulnerable.

This was all terribly domestic, but for a reason he couldn't quite understand, he wouldn't trade these moments for anything. The rush he had sought to feel from doing good deeds so many weeks before, seemed to only be recreated when those deeds were done for Chloe, or her daughter. What was it about these two mortals that could make him so very vulnerable, yet so very invincible at the same time?

**~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~**

Lucifer stood with his back against the bar, a glass of scotch in his hand as he watched Chloe move about the penthouse. They had finished their dinner almost an hour ago, and Chloe had insisted on cleaning up the kitchen. He had told her to rest, promised her that she didn't need to worry about the clean up, but she had been insistent. It had taken her awhile to relax once he had brought her back to his home, as though she were still trying to process something, and it made him even more curious about the conversation she'd had with Dan. Whether intentional, or not, he had watched that man hurt this woman and child at every turn. Far too often, he had seen him play with Chloe, using emotions as weapons to control her, and he hated it. 

"Come here," he called to Chloe as he watched her move through the room. "It's alright," he coaxed her as he set his glass down, and stepped toward her. "Promise not to bite unless you ask," he teased her, breaking the tension as she took his outstretched hand. 

"Lucifer," she spoke his name softly, her voice holding caution as he pulled her closer.

"Hush," he soothed her as he drew her into the circle of his arms, and tucked her head beneath his chin as he held her. 

He felt her return his embrace, her arms winding around his back, as he held her. He'd been able to feel it since he had stepped into her house almost three hours ago, and the tension had followed her here. His club and penthouse were two of the only places he had ever seen her truly relax before. Even in her own house she had always seemed to be on guard, protective, but not here. When she was here with him, she was relaxed, unguarded, as though she trusted him to take care of everything. His thoughts fell silent as he realized the gravity of his epiphany, and he lifted his hand to stroke down the length of her hair. 

"Stay here tonight," he requested of her as he held her. "Your spawn's already asleep. I've a guest bed we can put her in. I've a private bedroom in the back you're welcome to."

Her arms tightened around him as he felt her take in a shaking breath. "Could you just . . . could you hold me?" she asked, and he could feel the vulnerability that held her voice restrained.

"Let me put your spawn to bed," he told her, and dropped a kiss to her hair before he released her. 

"She loves that bear," Chloe said with affection as she watched him lift her sleeping daughter from the couch. 

"It's hideous," he told her, keeping his voice low. 

"I don't know," Chloe mused as she followed him to the hallway in the back. "It's kind of cute," she said as she stared at the twelve inch tall brindle teddy bear wrapped in her daughter's arms. It wore a black suit and was adorned with a red silk cape, red silk stuffed horns, and a red silk stuffed pitchfork sewn to the left paw. "Thank you," she whispered, as her tears filled her eyes.

She stood leaning against the doorframe as she watched him lay Trixie down in the bed. He took care not to wake her as he removed her shoes, before covering her with the blankets. She bit her lip as she watched him lean down over her daughter to kiss her forehead. She closed her eyes as she tried to remember a similar moment with Dan, a time that he had tucked their daughter in with such gentleness and love without the actions having to be coerced by either her, or her daughter. 

Lucifer heard the softly in drawn breath, and looked back to Chloe as he stood from the bed. The detective had her eyes closed, a look of anguish on her face. He moved toward her, watching her eyes open as she hastily forced the emotion away. As easily as she could always see through his facade, was as easy as he could see through hers. She was pretending to be ok, but was so very far from okay, and it made him wonder who she was trying to convince.

"Come on," he coaxed her out of the guestroom, and led her back to his private bedroom. "Shirts in the closet you can use to sleep in," he told her as he nodded to the walk-in closet. "Are you going to tell me what he said?" he asked as she moved past him, and met her confused frown. "Don't think I've not noticed that Beatrice isn't the only one upset."

Chloe nodded slowly as she turned away, and he watched her disappear into his closet. He undressed as he waited for her, folding his suit neatly over the back of the chair by the window, and slipped into the bed in just his boxers. She appeared a few moments later dressed only in one of his black silk shirts, and he felt his mouth drop open as his body tightened in response to the sight of her. He remained silent as she padded barefoot over to the bed, and lifted the covers for her to slip in beside him. 

He kissed her head when she curled into his side, and smiled when she pillowed her head on his chest. He held her close, fire igniting beneath his skin at her touch when she slipped her arm over his stomach. His fingers drew lazy designs over her arm and shoulder as he pulled her closer to him, and tilted his head to rest his cheek against her hair.

"He was so . . . I don't know," she said softly after a moment, and he remained silent as he listed to her. "He was jealous, and angry, and spitting fire," she told him, and sighed as she curled closer, seeking comfort as she recalled the conversation. "He didn't sound at all like himself, and the things he said . . . it makes me wonder if I knew him at all."

"There's more," he encouraged her to go on, as he felt the first warm drop of her tears fall on his skin as she began to cry. 

"I told him to stop laying blame where it didn't belong," she told him, taking in an unsteady breath as her tears rolled from the corners of her eyes and over the bridge of her nose to fall on his chest. "I reminded him that you were the one who was there with me every day at the hospital after I'd been shot, and that he hadn't come to see me once."

"What did he say?" he asked her when she fell silent, and tightened his arms around her when a soft sob sounded from her.

"He said that the desk sergeant said I wasn't critical. He said 'it wasn't like you were dying'," she told him, her voice barely a whisper as she broke down, and Lucifer looked up at the ceiling above them as he held her. "It didn't matter to him," she cried, her words broken by soft sobs and gasping breaths. "I was shot and he didn't care. I don't understand what happened," she told him, begging him to make sense of what she couldn't. "Did he ever care? I feel like everything I knew about him was a lie. Was it me? I don't - "

"Don't do this to yourself," he told her, a soft growl coloring his words as he thought of all the things he'd love to say to Dan. "What he said, and what he did are a reflection on him, not on you," he promised her. 

"I just don't understand," she told him again. "He never had that anger, or jealousy before."

"It's always been there, love," Lucifer told her. "He's just always had a distraction for it before, and now he's got nothing else to focus on."

He held her to him as he gathered the blankets close and wrapped them around her shoulders. He rubbed her shoulder through the cloth as she curled closer to him, and he felt her tears slow. She grew heavy against him, but he knew she wasn't asleep yet, and turned his head to kiss her brow. He took in a deep breath as he held her and began to hum a low crooning tune before words formed as he began to sing. 

" _I ran down to the levy, but the devil caught me there. He took my twenty dollar bill and vanished in the air_ ," he sang to her, the melody of the Mumford and Sons song almost that of a lullaby. "Go to sleep, Chloe," Lucifer bid of her, humming as he toyed with the ends of her hair. " _Set out running, but I take my time. A friend of the devil is a friend of mine. If I get home before daylight, I just might get some sleep tonight._ "

He tipped his head to kiss her hair as the song ended, and smiled sadly to find her asleep in his arms. His eyes fell closed as he cursed the mortal man who had caused their pain, wondering why it was that Detective Douche seemed so dedicated in being the one to break their hearts time and time again. A sound caught his attention, and he looked toward the door, his eyes finding Beatrice standing just inside the open doorway. The expression on her face was so lost and sad, something he could never remember having seen on her before, and he ached because of it.

"Come here, darling," he called to her softly, and held up the blankets for her when she climbed into the bed and settled against his side, opposite her mother. "Shh," he whispered, soothing her when silent tears began to fall from her eyes. 

He watched the child curl in on herself as her tears fell faster, and moved slowly, extracting himself from the woman in his arms as he took care not to wake her. Sitting up against the headboard, he gathered the girl into his arms and held her close as her silent tears turned into soft heartbroken sobs. He kissed her dark hair as he held her, his eyes catching sight of the hideous bear she had wrapped in her arms. _His bear_ , he reminded himself. He had gotten it for her because it was a kind of totem to him, a devil, but dressed for a child.

"I try to be good," she said, her voice painfully quiet, and choked by her tears. 

"What?" Lucifer asked as he petted her hair, not understanding the girl's train of thought.

"Daddy's always late to get me, or cancels our weekend, or . . . even before we lived away from him, he would miss my birthday, or not come home until I was already in bed," she told him, the tone of her voice apologetic as though she were confessing her sins. "He would get mad at mommy when she asked him why he wasn't there, or why he didn't pick me up from school, or a friend's house. He always gets mad at me when I talk about you, and I try," her voice trailed off as a soft sob broke her words. "I try really hard to be good. I try to do things he likes, but he forgets me, or tells me to go away. And now he won't talk to me, or see me, and he got so mad when I called him, and-and . . ." She hiccupped around a sob. "I didn't mean to be bad. And I wanted to tell him that I'm sorry I was bad. I'll be better," she told Lucifer as she cried softly, her tears scalding against his bare skin. "I promise I'll be better."

"Oh, Beatrice," he whispered, mourning her pain as he held her. "Child, this isn't your fault. You've done nothing wrong," he promised her as he held her, and petted her hair.

"Then why doesn't he want me?" she begged him for an answer, the question hitting far too close to home for him, and Lucifer closed his eyes against the rage and grief rolling inside of him.

"I wish I had an answer for you," he told her, and turned his head to kiss her damp cheek. "Your mother loves you very much," he told her as he stroked her hair. "You have Maze and I, too," he assured her, as he felt her grow heavy against him. "Even Amenadiel," he said with some reluctance.

"I love you, Lucifer," she mumbled, as she rubbed a small fist against her eye and curled closer to him. "I love Maze, too. I know mommy doesn't really believe in God, but Grandma Maria does," she told him, sniffling as she blinked slowly, tears still falling down her cheeks. "She told me she talks to him, and she taught me how to talk to him," she said around hitching breaths, her words beginning to slur as she grew closer to sleep. "I always pray that he keeps you and Maze safe. You're part of my family."

He released a deep sigh, the breath ruffling the child's hair. He opened his mouth to say something, to tell her that his father had never cared what happened to him, but when he looked down he found her to be asleep. This innocent soul in his arms, who he had watched be hurt again and again, and she prayed for him. He cursed his father for the pain she and her mother had been put through, claiming both mother and child in his thoughts as he swore to always protect them. 

"If this was part of your plan," he whispered his anger at his father. "There were so many better ways you could have gone about it. Did you have to hurt them both so deeply?" He didn't receive an answer, not that he had truly been expecting to get one. "I know punishment, and they have done nothing to deserve this."

He scooted down the bed slowly until he was lying on the pillows, and turned onto his side, enclosing the young girl in his arms between his body and her mother's. She clung to him, even in her sleep, and he smoothed her hair back from her face as he looked down upon her. There was a part of him that prayed Daniel would do something that would taint his soul, something that would guarantee his arrival in Hell, if only so he could spend an eternity punishing the man for what he done to the two innocent souls sharing his bed. 

"I love you, too, Beatrice," he whispered, kissing her brow as he wrapped his arm around her, and let sleep claim him at last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For all of you audiophiles, Dead Heads, and the like out there, I do realize that the "Friend of the Devil" song by Mumford and Son's was a remake of the original done by the Grateful Dead. The thing is, I've heard the original, I've heard several of the covers, and I do believe that not only was that song done best by Mumford and Sons, but that it was always meant to be their song. You can find their version of it on Amazon MP3, or Spotify.


	10. Chapter 9

AN: Lucifer and all recognizable characters belong to Jerry Bruckheimer and FOX television. Set post 'Take Me Back to Hell'. (Written prior to the start of season 2.)

 

Summary: There is only one thing that can make an immortal vulnerable, only one thing that can hurt an angel aside from another angel - their mate. It was only a rumor, a baseless myth, something Amenadiel had never believed in, until it happened to Lucifer.

**Memento Mori**

Chapter 9

by WhisperingWolf

He heard it before he saw it, the soprano whisper of the metal as it sliced through the air, and he turned. The crisp twang of metal against metal sounded as the blades collided and he felt the vibration of the impact reverberate down his arms and into his shoulders. His lips parted in a snarl, his teeth bared and clenched together as he fought against the pain of his scarred flesh, only to cry out and fall as he lost the ability to remain standing. He turned the blade swiftly, driving the tip against the floor and leaning heavily against the sword turned crutch.

His opponent stepped back with a sigh as he shook his head and lowered his weapon. Lucifer was strong and powerful, having perfected and practiced his fighting skills many times over while in Hell, but it wasn't enough. He couldn't withstand a direct blow, and they both knew it. As soon as he was in a position that forced him to block with his sword and hold off another's weapon, be it a sword or otherwise, he would fall.

"You need your wings, Luci," Amenadiel told him as his muscles trembled with the effort it took to stand. "All I need is one good blow against you, and I can take you down. Mother will see your weakness in a second, and she won't hesitate," he warned.

"Yes, well I cut them off you blighter!" Lucifer snarled at his brother. "And I burned them, so _exactly_ what do you expect me to do? Go down to the local ComiCon, and buy myself another pair? It doesn't work like that!"

"No," Amenadiel agreed patiently, "it doesn't. But," he said, and paused with a heavy sigh. "You could ask Father to give them back."

"Over my dead body," Lucifer snarled low, his voice deathly quiet and full of barely controlled rage. 

"Luci -"

" _No_ ," he snarled, cutting off his brother's protest. "I will fight her without them.

"And you will die," Amenadiel warned. 

Lucifer sneered as his eyes flashed crimson. "I would rather die with my freedom, than live immortally as a slave," he said.

"You made a deal with Him the night you died. What's different now?" Amenadiel asked, confused by his brother's attitude.

"He brought me back to hunt mother down and return her to Hell," Lucifer said, the gravity of his situation weighing heavily on him. "Whether I die, or not, the end will be the same."

"What about Chloe?" Amenadiel barked at him, and Lucifer turned away with a snarl.

"What about her?" Lucifer returned with anger, as he stepped away and drove the point of his sword into the stone floor before he left the weapon standing alone.

"What happens to her if you die?" his brother demanded.

"The same thing that will happen if I ask Father for my wings back!" Lucifer raged as he spun on his brother, advancing on him dangerously. "If you _think_ for one second that Father wouldn't demand I separate myself from her in return for having my wings back than you are _deluding_ yourself!"

"She would die," Amenadiel denied, shaking his head as he stared at Lucifer in disbelief. 

"Do you honestly think He _cares_?" Lucifer asked, his temper rising to uncontrolled levels as he laughed, the sound dark and dangerous. "He doesn't care one bloody _iota_ about the people down here. And I guarantee you, _dear brother_ that our _Father_ would rather see me dead in Hell than alive and in any manner happy on earth."

"You don't believe that," Amenadiel denied in horror at the thought.

" _Don't I_?" Lucifer said with a laugh, his voice calmer, but his rage more intense than ever. "He tried to take her away from me the first case we ever worked together. Jimmy Barnes should've been dead from the two rounds she put in his chest, but _he wasn't_. I _checked, dear brother_ ," he snarled low. "The doctors said the bullets _should_ have punctured his lung and heart, but by some _miracle_ they bounced off his ribs and clavicle. _Some miracle_ ," he repeated the words with a hateful snarl, and shook his head. 

"Luci . . ." Amenadiel tried to dissuade his brother's hate, his pain.

"That gun should have jammed," Lucifer said, his anger combining with the pain of the betrayal by the father he had once loved. "Jimmy shot at her three times, one round going through her shoulder and very nearly nicking her heart. It bore a hole through her shoulder blade. He would have shot her six more times if I hadn't been there to cover her. _Six_. I checked with the detective assigned to her shooting. The barrel of Jimmy's gun was dirty and damaged. It _should have_ jammed, those were the detective's words. _It. Should. Have. Jammed._ And he, as well as the crime scene weapons scientist had no idea, or explanation as for _why it didn't_ ," he snarled low. 

Amenadiel stood silent as he stared in disbelief at Lucifer. Exhausted with the practice that had left him with shattering pain in his back, Lucifer sat down on an overturned empty crate and sighed. To counterbalance the power of a head on blow as Amenadiel had cast against him, an angel's wings would flare out and push hard against the wind. The shredded tendons, and shattered cartilage and bone that remained of his underlying wing structure had tried desperately to do just that.

The underlying structure of an angel's wings were fused to their spines. Bones, nerves, muscle, tendon, cartilage, and the like were born from the vertebrae between their shoulders and braided out along the backs of their ribs. While Mazikeen had been able to cut off the protrusion of his wings, she had neither the skill, nor tools needed to remove what remained beneath. The scars themselves didn't hurt on the outside, there were times it even felt greatly arousing to be touched on them, but when his muscle memory built over eons, demanded his wings be spread, he felt the pain all the way down his spine to his hips. 

This pain was just one more thing he had his father to thank for. He closed his eyes as he bent forward, and felt the burning pain settle into a deep ache. He couldn't say it was any better, but at least it was more manageable. Lucifer knew he wouldn't be able to lift his sword arm again, even if he wanted to, and called an end to the day's sparing with Amenadiel. In that moment, he almost welcomed his mother's rage. At least she would face him head on and give him the respect of being honest in her desire to kill him. His father would just sit back and play watcher while He commanded his brothers to do His bidding. 

"I'm done with this," Lucifer said as he stood from his seat, and moved to gather his shirt. 

"At least let me help with your pain," Amenadiel said as he approached.

Lucifer spun as he snarled, his eyes burning crimson as his true face flashed in hatred and rage.

"I don't want your help," Lucifer snarled as he turned away, his angelic features once more in place, and left. 

"Watch over him, Maze," Amenadiel said after Lucifer had departed the warehouse they'd been using for sparring practice. "He's getting worse."

"You're only seeing his anger," Mazikeen said with a sigh. "I don't think he ever expected to fall in love with her," she told the angel. "Every time it seems like they might get a moment of peace, something comes along to destroy it. The deeper he digs into whatever he's working on with his little detective, the more angry and unstable he gets. He hasn't told me anything about the case yet, except that Trixie must be guarded at all times, and that Chloe is deeply involved. The more he discovers, the more he blames your father for everything."

"So, he's feeling betrayed," Amenadiel simplified, and rolled his eyes. "What's new?"

"I'd be careful with that," Mazikeen warned, humor in her tone. "A threat to himself, he might cast aside. But a threat to her?" she said, and left the question unfinished as she walked around him to leave the warehouse.

"How close are you two to finding Mom?" Amenadiel asked, and Mazikeen sighed as she stopped near the door. 

"We found a lead a few days ago," she told him. "We thought it was his mother's influence, but it wasn't. It was just a kid who was trying to protect his younger sister from his parents' abuse. The kid was thirteen and had taken the abuse for years. His sister had just turned seven. Apparently, that was old enough that her father had taken a new interest in her. The man was disgusting and deserved what he got, but the girl made it worse."

"How so?" Amenadiel asked with confusion. 

"Her mother was Cuban, her father wasn't," she said, and released a sigh. "The girl could have been Trixie's sister. The closer he gets to Chloe and her daughter, the more he sees Trixie in every child. It's skewing his perception. As much as I think he needs to go back to Hell, just long enough to get his head on straight, the more I know he can't."

"How does that make any sense to you?" he asked her, and met her gaze when she turned to look at him.

"The closer he gets to them," Mazikeen said, and paused as she met Amenadiel's gaze fiercely. "The more dangerous he is in his protection of them. I have seen the Devil he is come out to play, or in anger, but when Chloe, or her daughter are in danger . . . the rage that possess him is unlike anything I have ever seen. The devil he becomes is more powerful and unforgiving. He becomes unstoppable, by anyone but Chloe herself." She smiled as she stepped away from the door, and shook her head as she paced. "You know, it's funny. Trixie watches all these cartoons, and I've watched a few with her. In one of them, the . . . hero . . . " She grinned at the memory of the colorful talking animal. "Said that a person's strength is never greater than when they have something to protect. I used to think it was a ridiculous notion, but I've been seeing the truth of it in Lucifer."

"And you really think that will be enough?" he asked her, as Mazikeen opened the door of the warehouse.

"I don't know," she said honestly. "But I do know that he would rather die trying to save them from his mother, than be separated from them because he's indebted to his father.

"Maze," Amenadiel called to her, and she stopped with one foot out the door. "The pain he's in now is only going to get worse. If he continues to fight without his wings, he won't even be able to stand up to face her. Convince him to ask for his wings back."

She turned to him with rage and regret, her demon side flashing for barely a moment. He fell silent under the weight of her stare.

"I betrayed him once for you Amenadiel. I won't do it again."

**~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~**

Chloe looked up at the building in front of her silently from the front seat of her car. She had received the call this morning that the repairs to her cruiser had been completed, and without a moment's hesitation, had ordered an Uber ride to collect the vehicle. Her plan had been to go back to her house, to gather the boxes of files she had and bring them back to Lucifer's penthouse. That _had_ been the plan, but that hadn't been what happened. Instead, she had found herself here, at the local office for the Center for Missing and Exploited Children. She didn't even remember driving here.

She closed her eyes as she gripped the top of her steering wheel and bent forward over her hands. She knew why she was here, but she was afraid. If anyone had the answers she was looking for, it would be the Center, but . . . 

"But what if I don't like what I find?" she asked herself aloud, and took in a deep breath.

 _"You never run from the truth, do you, Detective?_

Chloe smiled at the sound of Lucifer's voice. The conversation had happened almost a month ago, back when she had first revealed her investigation to him, and she smiled. His teasing words gave her the same courage now that they had then. He had never doubted her intelligence, or the strength of her spirit, and she found that his belief in her fostered her own. 

She stepped out of her car with a sense of newfound confidence and purpose as she nodded to herself, and made her way inside the building. It didn't take her long to find the woman she normally worked with, and she breathed in deeply as the woman welcomed her into her office. 

"Ready for more files already?" Evangeline teased her, and Chloe shook her head as the quiet grin she had been wearing fell. "Detective?"

"I was wondering if you might have one case file in particular," Chloe said, and watched the woman tip her head curiously.

"Who's?" she asked as her brow furrowed.

"Mine," Chloe said, and watched woman's eyes widen.

"You're . . .? But you can't be," she said as she shook her head. "I thought the names were just similar, but you're _that_ Chloe Decker?"

"You know my case?" Chloe asked her, feeling as though she had grown closer to the answers that always seemed to be evading her grasp.

"There's not much information, I'm afraid," Evangeline told her as she withdrew a set of keys from her pocket, and turned to a locked cabinet behind her desk. "No one ever told us you'd been found. I guess they thought it safer to keep the information quiet."

"What are you talking about?" Chloe asked, more confused now than she had been before.

"We thought you were one of the sold ones," she said, as she pulled a file from the cabinet and took her seat behind her desk once more.

"What?" Chloe asked, her mind spinning as she began to feel a disconnection between her mind and body. 

"I've been chasing this ring for the past fifteen years, but I haven't been able to find much," she said as she handed the file to Chloe. "You were a young girl, lean, fit, blonde hair, blue eyes, pale skin. You had good marks in school," she recounted Chloe's attributes. "You fit the profile perfectly for the children we would find on the videos at the auctions we infiltrated."

"Auctions?" Chloe repeated numbly as she sat unmoving, her face drained of color.

"Yes," Evangeline said, not noticing Chloe's condition, as she worked quickly at her computer to pull the information from her encrypted files. "There were four categories that I, and a few others, were able to put together," she said, as the printer behind her began to churn out page after page of information. "There were the children put to work as drug dealers, sex workers, trained for work as hit men and women, even arms dealers," she said as she turned her chair to face the printer. "Then there were the special girls, the ones that fit the profile you did, that were sold into human trafficking. Those girls would be bought by private parties, and though well cared for, they were essentially kept as sex slaves. They would be sold again when they got to a certain age, usually once puberty hit. Sometimes they would resurface at sixteen, or seventeen and we would be able to get them out."

"The others?" Chloe asked, her voice thick and mind heavy with the shock of her disbelief. 

"The two other groups were the bait, and the dead," Evangeline said as she turned back around, and looked up at Chloe. "Detective?" she called to her, and cursed. "Damnit . . . Chloe is there anyone I can call for you?"

"No," Chloe said after a moment. "No, I . . . I'm fine," she said, and shook her head to clear away the fog of her emotions. "Please, tell me the rest."

Evangeline sighed, but nodded as she continued. "The bait children were the children who were only half broken," she said. "A few of them were recovered, and they all told the same story. They were locked away as all the others were, but they weren't blind folded. They would be allowed out, if they agreed to help take other children. They were trained to believe that the children they helped to kidnap were the ones who had taken their freedom."

"And the dead?" Chloe asked, swallowing thickly as began to feel ill. 

"Here," Evangeline said, and handed Chloe the pages from the printer. "We have very limited information, but the few children we were able to recover said that there were . . . mountains of dead," she said with reluctance. "We never found anything that validated their stories, but neither did we find anything that disproved it. I always had hope that if we could find the mountains of dead they talked about, then it would lead us back to the kidnapping ring. If we could just get a foothold."

"The kids that were recovered?" Chloe asked, and Evangeline fell silent.

"A kind of . . . sleeper command had been trained into them, at least that's what we told ourselves," she told Chloe. "Within less than a year after being recovered, the children who escaped would kill themselves. Whether it was that they couldn't deal with what had been done to them, or what they had done to other, or even because of some kind of programmed suicide switch, I don't know. All I do know is that every single one of them is dead." 

Chloe tucked the papers into the file she held, and stood from the chair. She needed to get out of that office before she did something completely stupid like scream, or cry. Her vision swam before her as she stepped toward the door, but somehow she maintained her balance. The illusion that she was alright was all she needed. If she could get back to her car, get back to her house, or LUX she would be alright. She just had to get away. 

"There's one other thing, Detective," Evangeline called to her, and Chloe paused with her hand on the door. "I told you that I and a few others put this information together, and we did, but I'm the only one left. The other two people I worked with on this are dead. One died in a car accident, the other in a home invasion. Be careful, Detective. The people who are running this thing have no problem killing those who stand in their way, or threaten their business. And make no mistake, this is a business to them. Make sure you're not next."

**~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~**

Lucifer was silent as he made his way into his club, thankful for the solitude of the deserted establishment, and made his way toward the elevator. He was still in pain, his muscles aching and sore. It would be hours yet before he was truly without pain, but a long soak in his hot tub might help. He was waiting for the elevator that would take him up to his penthouse when he heard the club door open, and turned to see Chloe step inside.

His brow furrowed as he watched her move, her steps slow and unsteady. He narrowed his eyes when she stopped moving halfway down the stairs leading into the club, and simply sat down on the steps. She looked shell shocked, he thought, and abandoned the elevator behind him as he went to her. She didn't seem to notice him as he sat down by her side, and he waited silently as he watched her. He saw the file in her hands, the Center's logo on the front, and glanced back up to her face as he wondered what information she had found that could leave her in the state she was in now.

"They had a file for me," Chloe said moments later, her voice barely loud enough for him to hear, and he looked between her bowed head and the file in her lap. "They didn't know I'd gotten away. No one," she said, and paused as her breath began to come in shallow pants. "No one told them I'd been found. My parents kept it out of the media as much as possible. Evangeline at the Center, she thought . . . She didn't know I was the same Chloe Decker as the one that had been kidnapped. She said . . . she'd thought I'd been sold."

"Sold?" Lucifer asked, keeping his voice soft in deference to her, and watched the small movement as she nodded.

"Some of the children that are kidnapped, if they fit a certain profile, they were sold," she told him. "If I hadn't got away, if . . . "

"You can't let yourself fall down that rabbit hole," he cautioned her. "Don't let your mind take you to what might have been, darling. You'll drive yourself mad, if you do."

"The way she talked about it," Chloe told him, her voice growing only a touch louder as fear and horror filled her tone. "The children were sold to pedophiles until they had outgrown the men's attraction, and then they were sold again to other men who wanted them. I don't . . . understand how I got here," she told him as she shook her head, and sniffled back the tears that threatened to fall. "I was just . . . It was supposed to be . . ."

"Come on, Detective," Lucifer said, taking the file from her unresisting hands as he pulled her to her feet. "Let's go upstairs," he told her, and led her to the elevator. 

"This kind of thing is only supposed to happen in stories. How is any of this real?" she begged him for an answer as she followed him into the elevator, the metal doors closing around them. 

"Unfortunately, it's very real," he told her as they rode inside the metal carriage.

"Why do people do this?" she begged him for answer, and he shook his head to let her know he had none to give.

"Did you want to lie down for a bit?" he asked her, as he stepped into the penthouse after her. "You could always join me in the hot tub," he said, offering her a playful smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

She nodded, but he wasn't quite sure as to what, and watched as she stepped through the living room to the back hallway. He followed her down to his private bedroom at the end, and stood against the open door frame after she slipped into the room. He sighed as he watched her sit down heavily on the side of the bed, only to fold over herself as she covered her face with her hands and began to cry. Chloe wasn't a crier, she was always in control of her faculties, but this case was slowly eating away at her, and he feared that soon there would be nothing left. It would have been bad enough on its own, but it was made infinitely worse by the knowledge that she was intimately involved in it. 

He moved to her side and sat down next to her as he took her in his arms, holding her as she cried. She turned slowly, hiding her face against his chest, and he moved them both to lie back on the pillows. The pain in his back and shoulders didn't matter to him. The ache of his muscles, and what remained of his hidden wing structure, were unimportant to him. The pain Chloe was in hurt him worse than any injury, or ailment ever could. 

Lucifer held Chloe close to his chest as he turned onto his side, resting her on the pillows next to him, and met her watery gaze. He lifted his hand to her face, cupping her cheek in his palm, and smoothed away her slowly falling tears with the pad of his thumb. She whimpered softly as she scooted closer to him, tucking herself against him as she closed her eyes, and sought the comfort of his embrace. He curled his body around her, his head turned down to stare at her, and watched her blink slowly as she gave into the exhaustion of her emotions.

"I'll find a way to make this right for you, Chloe," Lucifer whispered to the sleeping woman, and kissed her bowed head. "I won't let this destroy you."

She hummed in her sleep as she curled closer to his warmth, and Lucifer closed his eyes as he wrapped his arms around her. The hot tub would still be there later, but for now, what mattered most was the woman in his arms. It didn't take long for him to fall asleep, the ache in his body only accelerated by the exhaustion of his muscles. 

The dark curtains accenting the French doors leading to the balcony of his room fluttered as the air moved. An unwelcomed visitor stood watch over the couple in the bed from the open doorway of the balcony. His hair was a pale gold, the strands almost white at the ends. He was as tall as Lucifer, but built stronger, more girth and muscle to make for a powerful adversary. His ice blue eyes watched his brother sleep, the mortal in the bed earning a sneer from him as he watched the pair of them. Tucking his wings back, a single feather fell and floated to the ground of the glass walled balcony, the color of it the same brilliant spun gold as the rest of the angel's wings.

He hated his brother more than words could express. At every turn Lucifer thwarted him, even without realizing he had ever been there. The most delicate whisper of his energy had let that dreadful human escape death, and allowed his gun to fire on her, but _still_ she had lived. He had known what she was from the start, and all because of the system the _humans_ called 'J0806'. It had been the first and most exquisite of the binary stars his brother had created, and in doing so, those stars were irrevocably tied to his heart. When Lucifer had met Chloe Decker, he had seen those same two stars pulse powerfully and burn brighter than they ever had.

And he had known. In that one single moment, he had _known_ his brother had found his mate. His eyes burned pure white with the rage of his hatred and jealousy. _Lucifer_ had been their father's favorite. _Lucifer_ had been the one who was gifted with music, and light, and _Lucifer_ had been the one angel who was most equal to their father in his power for creation. It didn't matter to him that his father had made Lucifer create Hell, or that Lucifer had been tasked with punishing the wicked. What _had mattered_ and what still had the power to drive him mad with envy, was that _Lucifer_ after being banished, after being vilified, after _everything_ was _still_ their father's favorite.

Michael narrowed his eyes on Chloe as a smile twisted his lips with dark delight. For all his efforts, he hadn't been able to kill her, but maybe, just maybe, he could break her. He whispered to her, his voice unheard, and watched as she whimpered in her sleep. He would break her mind first, if he had to, and once that was complete, he would destroy her spirit. He snarled quietly in rage when he felt his energy spiral around the sleeping mortal, only to dissipate without ever touching her. Who was she to be so protected? How was it possible that she was immune to his power?

"I won't let you harm her," his brother's voice sounded from the air behind him, and Michael turned as he dove off the balcony in pursuit. 

"You would seek to stand as their guardian, Gabriel?" Michael laughed. "You would guard a _human_?"

"I would guard my brother, and his mate. I would guard the family they've created," Gabriel answered with quiet conviction. 

" _You_?" Michael sneered. "You can't fight. You've never been any _good_ at fighting to any degree."

Gabriel chuckled as he shook his head, dodging his brother's blow easily, before laying a punch between Michael's wings. The blow stunned his older brother just enough to make it easy for Gabriel to throw him far away from his sleeping brother and his mate. They tumbled through the air as they sparred, and Michael roared as Gabriel was able to dodge and parry his blows as if it were nothing. 

"The difference between us, Michael," Gabriel said patiently. "Is the same difference between you and Lucifer. We can both fight quite well, _when_ we have something worth fighting for. You and Raphael treated fighting as a sport. Do you think I learned nothing in all the millennia that the two of you amused yourselves with attacking me?" he asked pointedly. "Hell, I had the two best fight trainers teach me everything, and then some. I know your moves," he said as he dodged a predictable blow. "I know your weaknesses," he said as he landed a blow of his own. "I even know your lies."

"If you know so much, _little_ brother," Michael sneered. "Then why never fight me before. Why not go to Father with what you _know_?"

"Because the timing wasn't right," he said simply, and grinned. "Lucifer was always ready to go to war, but he always would have lost."

"And he won't lose now?" Michael taunted.

"No, he won't," Gabriel said with unshakable confidence. "He will prevail because _now_ ," he said, and smiled with satisfaction, "he has something to fight for."


	11. Chapter 10

AN: Lucifer and all recognizable characters belong to Jerry Bruckheimer and FOX television. Set post 'Take Me Back to Hell'. (Written prior to the start of season 2.)

 

Summary: There is only one thing that can make an immortal vulnerable, only one thing that can hurt an angel aside from another angel - their mate. It was only a rumor, a baseless myth, something Amenadiel had never believed in, until it happened to Lucifer.

**Memento Mori**

Chapter 10

by WhisperingWolf

Tendrils of sunlight filtered in through the open French doors of the balcony, the dark muslin curtains swaying gently in the breeze. Chloe breathed in deeply of the morning air as she woke, her lips curving up in a smile as she turned her head to look at her bed partner. Sometime during the night they had separated, he was lying on his stomach, she was on her back, but between them tucked underneath the pillows, their hands were intertwined. How was it that holding hands with him as they'd slept felt more intimate to her than waking wrapped in his arms, she wondered with a bemused grin.

Moving carefully, Chloe turned over, keeping her hand joined with his, and looked down at the sleeping man. Every single time she had felt herself break, he had been there to pick up the pieces and put her back together again. No matter what was going on in his own life, he made time for her, and her daughter. This man, who everyone discounted as being a playboy, was quite possibly the best man she had ever met. He was grace and beauty personified, with just the right amount of teasing playfulness thrown in.

As though he sensed her perusal, Lucifer sighed and turned his head toward her. She watched as his eyes fluttered open slowly, impossibly dark thick lashes framing his brown eyes. It was almost unfair, she mused. He had the kind of eyelashes women spent thousands of dollars to mimic through makeup, or adhesive, and here he was with them naturally. She met his tired gaze with a soft smile, and frowned at the look of exhaustion in his eyes, the tight lines around his mouth and eyes telling her what she knew he wouldn't.

"You're in pain?" she asked, and watched him try to force it back as he covered it up with a playful gaze. "Don't do that," she admonished softly. "I can see you're in pain. What's wrong?"

"Sparring with Amenadiel," he told her, grimacing as he tried to pull his arms underneath him. "It's been ages since the last time I fought with a sword," he told her as he turned over to lie on his back, his eyes opening wide as his shoulders protested the new position.

"Sword fighting?" Chloe said with disbelief, her eyes shining with interest. "You can fight with a sword?" she asked, and he turned to look at her with a furrowed brow.

"Do believe I just said that," he told her, and smiled when he caught her stare. "Why Detective Decker, does that excite you?" he asked with a wicked grin, and she felt her cheeks heat with a blush. "Now isn't that just delicious," he purred as he studied her, his eyes hooded as his gaze fell to her lips.

"Maybe," she teased back, and giggled. "Maybe someday I'll watch the two of you together," she said, not taking into account how her words sounded.

"Really?" he teased her with a grin. "Is that what you're into?"

"What?" she asked with confusion, her eyes flaring wide when she realized what he was implying. "No! I - shut up!" she stammered, and Lucifer laughed heartily, only to groan when the muscles of what remained of his wings spasmed. "Do you have anywhere you have to be today?" she asked him, and he met her gaze with a confused frown.

"No," he said, and narrowed his gaze. "I don't believe so."

"Good," she said with a decisive nod. "Stay," she told him, and moved to scoot off the bed.

"Really, Detective?" he purred with a salacious grin. "Ordering me about? You should be wearing a bit of leather and holding a whip, don't you think? I believe Maze has something that might fit you."

"No," she denied him with a shake of her head. "But if you move from that bed, I will have Maze tie you to it," she told him, and watched him look down at himself, as she stood next to the bed. "Really?" she said, when she followed his gaze down to the sizeable tent in his trousers.

"What do you mean _really_?" he asked as he looked at her. "You started this," he told her petulantly. 

Her lips parted in a sultry smile as her tongue came up over her canine, stroking along her tooth as she bent forward over the bed, her hands flat on the covers, and brought one knee up as she crawled toward him. He took in a shuddering breath as he watched her move, his eyes darkening with lust the closer she got to him. She sighed as she smiled and looked down at his clothed erection. Drawing the tip of her tongue over her top lip in a slow arc, she met his gaze and moaned.

"You could always do what the rest of us do," she told him, her voice an enticing purr.

"What's that?" he asked, his voice an aroused whisper as he felt himself drawn to her like a moth to a flame.

"Ignore it," she said dryly, and stood from the bed.

Her change from temptress to Chloe the cop was a shock to his senses, and his mind reeled as though he'd been hit with cold water. 

"Detective, that is bloody unfair!" he called after her as she walked toward the door.

She looked back at him, one brow arched as she stared at him in amusement. He called after her again when she stepped out of the room, and pulled the door closed behind her. Chloe laughed softly as she looked up to find Mazikeen standing in the hall. The woman looked equally amused, and Chloe wondered if she had somehow known what had taken place in the bedroom. Her amusement fell as she remembered the look of pain on his face from moments earlier.

"Keep him in bed for me," she asked of Mazikeen, and saw the instant look of arousal on the woman's face. "That's not what I meant. He's in a lot of pain, not that he likes to admit it."

"And you're going to fix that?" Mazikeen challenged, and Chloe met her gaze head on.

"I'm going to try. Just don't let him make it any worse," she said, and looked around. "Trixie?"

"At school," Mazikeen replied, and frowned. "Why are you and Lucifer so adamant that she be guarded lately? It's like you two are expecting someone to try and hurt her," she said. "Is this because of Malcolm?"

"Kind of," Chloe said, and walked down the hallway with Mazikeen. "The case I'm digging into is complicated to say the least, but there are a lot of kids involved," she said as she made her way past the bar to the elevator.

"I won't let anything happen to her," Mazikeen promised sincerely, and Chloe nodded.

"If anything does happen to her, Maze," she said, and paused as she considered her next words. "Do whatever it takes to save her, even if it's something you think I wouldn't like."

Mazikeen pulled back with surprise as she studied her, and Chloe swallowed thickly as the elevator announced its arrival. 

"You have my word," Mazikeen promised, and Chloe got the impression she was talking to the warrior in that moment, and not the bartender. 

"Thank you," Chloe said as she stepped inside the elevator, the doors closing around her. 

It didn't take her long to reach the street, and she was glad to see her cruiser was still in the alley next to LUX. She was lucky it was there at all, not having remembered making the drive across town. Chloe shook her head as she climbed behind the wheel and started the engine. She honestly didn't remember much after talking with the woman at the Center. If asked, the only thing she knew was feeling as though she was going to faint, or be ill inside of the woman's office, and then sitting on the stairs in LUX and talking with Lucifer. There was nothing in between for her.

Chloe released a heavy sigh as she pulled into the driveway of her house, and popped open the trunk of her car. She closed her eyes as she stood looking up at her house, her mother's house, she reminded herself, and sighed. How had it come to be that this place no longer felt like home to her? When had home come to mean a penthouse above a nightclub? She closed her eyes as she laughed at herself, and remembered her father's words.

_"It doesn't matter where we move to, sweetheart. Home isn't about the place, it's about the people. Home could be a broken down shack in the woods, or a five story mansion with a hundred rooms. It's not the place, it's who's in that place."_

"Oh Daddy," Chloe said as she smiled, and unlocked her front door. "When I was with Dan, I thought I'd almost forgotten you, but now with Lucifer, I've never felt closer to you. How is that even possible?" she asked of no one as she moved to the pantry in the kitchen.

Taking her keys from her pocket, she crouched down in front of an old wooden bin that had been built into the house. Her father had put the latch on it when she was a kid, and she had added the lock after hiding the case files away. Taking out the three banker's boxes of files she had received from the Center, she set them on the table, and moved to the cabinet under the sink. She crouched down on the floor, having to practically climb inside the cupboard to retrieve all the files she had hidden away. It took almost an hour to gather all the files she had taken from the station, county records, and the Center. 

Loading the car didn't take long, but she couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. Chloe shook her head as she put the last of the files in the trunk and closed the lid. It was just the case, she told herself, dismissing the momentary paranoia. Stepping back into the house, she locked the door and moved upstairs. She needed a shower and a change of clothes. Shaking her head at herself, she gave into the voice of reason at the back of her mind and took out a small travel bag from her closet. 

Normally, the bag would be used for unexpected weekend trips, but now, she used it as a go bag. After spending so many nights at LUX - unexpectedly, of course - it stood to reason that she should at least have a bag on hand with a few outfits to change into. She knew why she stayed with him so often. Lucifer made her feel safe, and that was something she hadn't felt in a long time. 

"Martin Cassidy," Chloe spoke the name out loud, and frowned in confusion. 

She didn't know where the name suddenly came from, but it was in her mind and didn't seem willing to leave her in peace. The more she tried to ignore it, the louder it became, and she sighed as she took her phone from her pocket. If anyone would recognize the name, she knew she would.

"Decker," Olivia answered her call. "You still have ten days of leave," she reminded her, and Chloe sighed as she chuckled.

"Five," Chloe corrected her with confusion.

"Ten, I'm not counting the required medical leave in with the two weeks," she told her. "What did you call about?"

"There's a name that keeps popping up. It's familiar, but I can't place it," she told her boss, and sighed. "I was hoping you might recognize it."

"Maybe," Olivia mused. "What's the name?"

"Martin Cassidy," Chloe said, and heard Olivia hum before she repeated the name.

"You're right," Olivia said. "That name does sound familiar. I don't know it off the top of my head, but I'll look into it for you. Decker, you _are_ actually taking this time _off_ , aren't you?"

"I'm not coming into the station," Chloe hedged, and heard the other woman sigh.

"Just be careful," she advised, and disconnected the call.

"Careful," Chloe repeated as she set her phone aside, and gathered clothing for a shower. "Right."

**~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~**

Lucifer's eyes opened slowly, his brows furrowed in confusion. Chloe had just left, but now she was sitting beside him dressed in different clothes. The smile she bestowed upon him was soft, her eyes watching him with affection and concern. Had something happened, he wondered. He tried to sit up, only to feel every single muscle across his back and shoulders protest the movement. Biting back a groan of pain as he squeezed his eyes closed, he looked up at her when he felt her touch his face.

"Maze said you've been sleeping this whole time," Chloe told him with a soft breath of amusement. "If I knew nothing else, that alone would tell me how much pain you're in. I've got everything ready," she told him, and nodded to his side.

"Be grateful she's here," Mazikeen told him as she and Chloe helped him into a sitting position. 

Lucifer groaned as the women helped him to his feet, and hissed as his arms were hung over both of their shoulders. He knew there was no way Mazikeen would be as gentle with him as she was, if Chloe hadn't been there to temper her. If it had just been himself and his demon, she very possibly would have simply manhandled him from the bed and thrown him wherever she wanted him to go. 

"Where are we going?" he asked, unable to hide the pain he felt.

"To the bathroom," Chloe told him, turning her head up to meet his gaze. 

"Why?" he asked in utter confusion. "Are you telling me I smell?" he teased her, and Chloe laughed.

"No," she said with a laugh. "But I know how it feels when everything hurts so much that you can't move. I perfected this particular aftercare during my advanced fight training classes during my first official year on the force," she told him as they reached the bathroom.

"You drew me a bath?" he asked, unable to understand why she would do so.

"Yeah," Chloe said, stepping around him as Mazikeen helped to support his weight. "Don't," Chloe headed off the teasing arousal in his gaze when she undid his belt. "Even if I were inclined to do what you're thinking, you're in no condition for anything like that."

"Spoil sport," he pouted, as he was divested of his suit and trousers. "I can do the rest," he said when he was only in his boxers. "What are those?" he asked, his gaze narrowed on the three bags made of cheesecloth that were floating in the water.

"Those are what got me through my first five years on the force," Chloe told him with a grin. "The herbs brew in the water and help relax your muscles, while the aromatherapy will help with the rest. A good friend taught me to make them," she said, and he frowned at the tinge of sadness he could see in her gaze. "Go on," she nodded to the sunken Roman bath. "Just lean back and soak. I'll be back in an hour, or so."

"I'll make sure he doesn't fall getting in," Mazikeen said, amused by the exchange she had witnessed between them. "She's spoiling you," she told him needlessly. 

"So she is," Lucifer agreed, wincing as he tried to bend over to take off his boxers.

Mazikeen sighed. "I don't know who's more pathetic right now, me for playing nursemaid, or you for needing me to."

"How long have I been out?" he asked her, a nod of thanks when she took off his boxers and helped him into the bath. "Oh bloody hell that's hot," he hissed, and leaned back against the stone wall of the tub as he sat on the bench seat along the edge. "So good."

"Wuss," Mazikeen teased him with a laugh. "The past five hours," she said, and met his gaze when he looked up at her. "Yeah," she said, her brows raised as she stared at him pointedly. "You rarely sleep more than two."

"What?" he asked, catching the look on Mazikeen's face.

"Chloe," Mazikeen answered him, her gaze fierce. "She's scared. She's damn good at hiding it, but she's scared."

"More than what you've seen before?" he asked, and watched her nod. "There's more."

"She got a call from her boss about an hour ago," she told him. "I don't know what they talked about, but I know what I saw. The last time I saw a look like that on someone's face, they'd seen my demon side."

"She's learning more," Lucifer said, more to himself than to Mazikeen.

"About what?" Mazikeen demanded an answer, her frustration at being kept out of the loop growing to a fever pitch. "All she would tell me is that the case you're working on involves kids."

Lucifer sighed. "Chloe came across the case file of a murdered prostitute. Memories began resurfacing, and she realized the victim was someone she had known as a child. She and the other girl had been kidnapped as children. Chloe made it out, the other girl didn't." He shook his head as his brows rose. "She didn't remember anything about it until recently. The memories are coming back to her, but they're out of order."

"Why are you both so tight lipped about this?" she demanded of him, angered that they didn't seem to trust her.

"I don't know everything yet," he told her. "Only what she's told me so far, and it isn't as much as you might think. She's having panic attacks," he admitted to her, and watched Mazikeen frown in confusion. "When the fragments of her memories come back, they're intense. She can't tell the difference between the memory she sees in her mind, and what's real and happening around her."

"Three days ago when you kept telling her to focus on you," she said, her eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"There was a sound, a door closing," he said, still confused by it himself. "It took her mind somewhere. She couldn't breathe. For the most part, she's fine," he said when he caught his demon's stare. "But every now and again something will . . . trigger her."

"That's why you won't ask for your wings back, isn't it?" she asked with a snort of anger. "If she were fine, if this wasn't happening, you might be able to leave her, but you won't even take that chance now."

"Maze," he cautioned her, his eyes hard and angry. "Don't blame her."

"I don't blame her, I blame _Him_ ," she snarled, and he frowned in confusion. "Your _Father_ ," she spat the word like a curse. "This . . . _thing_ with Chloe didn't start happening until your mother got free, and now it's like He's trying to make you choose between your life and hers."

"It's not exactly escaped my notice, either," he told her, and sighed. "If Mum kills me, so be it," he said. "I won't forsake her for a bloody set of wings."

Lucifer closed his eyes as he scooted further down in the water, the chest-high bath coming up to cover his shoulders, and leaned his head back against the stone side of the tub. It was a clear sign that he was done with the conversation, regardless of how angry Mazikeen still was over the subject. The heat of the water and the herbs soaking in the bath had helped to ease his muscles a considerable amount, but he was still in pain. Breathing in deeply of the fragrant moist air, he let his mind wander, and sighed softly as he fell into a half-sleep state.

He was seconds from falling asleep completely when he heard the delicate splashing of water on either side of him. The sound was followed in short order by the feel of long slender fingers combing through his hair. He frowned as he tried to imagine why Mazikeen would do something as mundane as a scalp message for him, only to hiss in pleasure when he felt the scrape of short blunt nails against his scalp. Her fingers moved through his hair, her hands changing the way she held him, until he felt her middle fingers at his temples and groaned in delight when she began to rub small circles against his head.

"Let me know if it's too hard."

Lucifer gasped as he stilled, his eyes flaring wide. "Chloe?" he called her name with shock, and listened to her chuckle.

"I can't really see Maze doing this, can you?" she asked him, and he lifted his hands to run them over her bare legs from her ankles to her knees. "You're supposed to be relaxing," she reminded him, as she wrapped her legs around his chest, her ankles crossing in front of him as she pulled him back against her. "Does this bother you?" she asked after a moment, and he missed the feel of her hands in his hair.

"Only in the very best of ways," he purred to her, and heard her warm chuckle. "Thank you, darling," he said with a sigh of pleasure as she resumed her massage of his temples and jaw.

"How's your back?" she asked him, and he felt her shiver when he leaned back into her spread legs, and wrapped his hands over the tops of her knees.

"It's much better than it was," he told her, his voice growing softer as her ministrations soothed him back into the half-sleep state he'd been in. "Are you in shorts?" he asked her curiously, not having felt anything on her legs.

"Bikini," she told him, and squeaked when he whipped around to look at her.

"Oh, I'm definitely not tired anymore," he said as he ran his eyes up and down her form. "White?" he whispered the color of her bikini.

"It was the only one I still had," she said with a shrug, and he watched as the movement caused her breasts to rise and fall. "Turn back around, stud," she chided him with a laugh.

"Bloody hell, woman," he said with a groan as he did as she asked, for fear that she would leave if he didn't. "You're trying your hand at killing me, aren't you?" he asked her, and released a deep groan when she bent forward to massage his shoulders and neck. 

Chloe laughed softly as she rubbed the tightness from his muscles. "You were in so much pain last night, and you didn't say a word," she told him, her tone wistful and subdued. "You always take care of me," she said, letting her words trail off as she massaged him.

"You're worth it, Chloe," he told her softly. "Why were you sad earlier?" he asked her, and she hummed her confusion. "You looked sad when you told me your friend taught you to make the sachets," he reminded her.

"Oh," she said softly. "Sophia," she spoke the name. "She was a good friend. We went through the academy together. She was the only one who tried to get to know _me_ , and not the me everyone thought I was."

"What happened to her?" he asked, and felt her gently scoot him forward in order to angle him back. "Mmm," he hummed suggestively. "I like this position," he said when she tipped his head back to rest between her legs.

"Don't get any ideas," she told him, laughing at his playful gaze. "She had an aneurysm, no one knew. Not even her," she told him as she leaned over him to cup water in her hands, and bring it up to wet his hair. "We were running one day for PT and she just . . . _fell_. She was completely fine, and then _in a second_ she was just . . . gone," she said, and Lucifer frowned as he watched the emotions play across her face. "I think it would have been easier to handle if it had been a car accident, or some kind of attack, but it was just this tiny intangible thing that no one could see."

"You were close?" he asked, and sat up at her encouragement. 

"We were," she mused, and he heard the click of a bottle top. "I'm sure this isn't what you normally use," she said, and he smelled the scents of sage, rosemary, and clove. "There was this little aromatherapy boutique slash massage parlor she introduced me to," she told him as she lathered the shampoo between her hands before rubbing it in his hair.

"Did you two ever . . . ?" he asked curiously, breathing deeply of the shampoo she was using on him.

"No," she said, and he heard the honesty in her voice. "Maybe, in a different life, but no."

"You mean you would have?" he asked, not having taken her for being bisexual. 

"With her?" Chloe said, and released a deep sigh. "Yeah, I think I would have. No other women, if that's what you're asking," she told him, and tipped him back to rinse his hair. "It was just her. Who she was. She was pretty, sure, but I wasn't attracted to her like that until I really got to know her. It was . . . like I was falling in love with her soul, not her body," she said, and huffed in amusement. "That probably sounds stupid."

"No, it doesn't," he denied her immediately. "Was it like that with Daniel?" he asked her, watching her curiously as she remained focused on the task of rinsing the shampoo from his hair. "You didn't feel sexual attraction to him until you got to know him?"

She met his gaze, almost as though he was understanding something about her that she didn't understand herself. Her gaze fell to the side as she considered his question, her brow furrowing, and he watched her nod.

"Sit up," she encouraged him, and he moved to lean back against her once more.

"You're demisexual," he told her, and heard her confused hum. "You don't find sexual attraction in an instant based on someone's appearance, or in a form based on a type," he explained. "You're attracted to the spirit of a person, _who_ they are, not how they look. Male, or female doesn't matter much to the demisexual because it's the spirit, not the form." He chuckled as he took in a deep breath, the air rolling at the back of his throat. "Certainly explains why I didn't have any effect on you when we first met."

The sound of a bottle snapping open drew his interest, and the scents of peppermint, eucalyptus, and sage invaded his senses. 

"And here I used to think there was just something a little skewed with me," she said with a chuckle.

"Not at all, darling," he purred, only to groan deeply when she rubbed the conditioner in his hair. "This is bloody wonderful," he sighed, and dropped his head back into her hands as she chuckled. "You keep that up, and I really may fall asleep on you," he warned as she worked the conditioner deep into his hair, massaging his scalp in slow firm circles.

"Then fall asleep," she told him, and he snorted with humor.

"And miss whatever else you have planned?" he scoffed. "I know your game, you naughty little minx," he teased her, and delighted in the ease of her laughter.

He groaned when she had him tip back once more to rinse his hair, and closed his eyes as he gave into the relaxation she was creating. He opened his eyes when she leaned away from him, and watched her hungrily as she reached back to grab a small dark green plastic bottle. The sweet scents of orange, bergamot, ginger, and honeysuckle reached him when she popped the snap top open.

"Do you think you can stand?" Chloe asked him, and he nodded with confusion. "Then stand up," she told him with a chuckle, and he felt his body tighten. 

There was no way she was going to do what he thought she was going to do. His breath caught in his throat when he heard the splash of water as she slipped into the bath behind him and took his place on the stone bench. He felt her still behind him, and turned his head back to look at her. He frowned when he caught her staring at his scars, the look in her eyes somehow both mournful and murderous. 

She didn't say anything about his scars as she lathered the soap between her hands and began with his shoulders. He groaned at her touch, his eyes falling closed as she used the soap as a kind of massage oil. Her masterful hands worked him, the remainder of the tension leaving his muscles as a new tension formed lower down. He was grateful he was facing away from her as his body responded unmistakably to her touch.

"Do you mind if I . . . ?" she asked, and he knew she was asking about his scars.

"It's alright, darling," he assured her, and gasped silently at the intensely erotic feel of her fingertips rubbing gently over his marbled flesh. 

A husky chuckle drew his attention, and he opened his eyes to see Mazikeen standing outside the bath in front of him. His erection jerked almost violently in response to the sight of her, his mind playing a recent fantasy at him in vivid detail. It was beyond unfair, the way Chloe was playing his body without having any idea, or intention, of doing so. If she knew what was happening with his front side, he was fairly certain she would have bolted long before now.

"Toss me the bottle," Mazikeen commanded Chloe, and caught the green bottle easily when it was thrown to her. "I've got him from here," she said as she set the bottle down, and began to take off her clothes. "Trixie's home now, and has something to tell you. I don't know what, exactly, but she didn't look happy."

"Thanks, Maze," Chloe said, and rinsed her hands off in the water before standing. "Try to relax, ok?" she said to Lucifer, and he chuckled.

"I'll make sure he does," Mazikeen said with a chuckle, as she slipped into the water naked. "She certainly _relaxed_ you," she teased Lucifer as she moved toward him in the water.

"She's a mistress of slow torture," he told her, and met her gaze when she laughed. 

"Maybe you should get Amenadiel to hurt you more often," she teased him, and Lucifer chuckled, only to hiss when Mazikeen wrapped her hand around him. "Need some help with that?" she teased him, as she began to stroke him slowly beneath the water.

**~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~**

"Hey baby," Chloe said, as she walked out into the living room with a towel wrapped around herself. "Give me a few minutes, and we can talk while you help me with dinner, ok?" she asked, and watched Trixie nod. 

It didn't take Chloe long to return to Lucifer's private bedroom. She dried off, hanging her bikini over the handle of the open French door to dry, and dressed in a pair of comfortable jeans and a grey top. Securing her hair back at the nape of her neck, she stepped back out into the hallway. Calling to Trixie when she stood in the open entryway by the bar, she motioned for the girl to follow her, and led her back to Lucifer's restaurant quality kitchen. 

"You're pretty quiet, Trix," Chloe observed. "What's wrong?"

"You know how we've had Mrs. Dugan for awhile?" Trixie said, and Chloe nodded.

"Yeah, monkey," Chloe nodded as she stepped inside the walk in fridge and pulled out three pounds of ground beef, handing them to Trixie as she collected the rest of the ingredients she would need to make their dinner. "Mrs. Dugan is subbing for your class while Mrs. Benning's on maternity leave."

"Mrs. Dugan made me sit alone for our math test today," she said, and Chloe could tell her daughter was upset about being segregated. "She did the same thing two days ago when we had our science test, and last week when we had our history test."

"Did you ask her why?" Chloe asked, finding it odd that her daughter had been singled out.

Trixie nodded. "I asked her today before Maze came to get me."

"What did she say?" Chloe asked curiously.

"She said she wants to talk to you," Trixie said, and looked up at her mother pleadingly. "If I did anything wrong, I didn't mean to," she told her, and Chloe opened her arms to the girl.

"We'll figure out what it is, Trixie," Chloe promised her. "Don't worry too much, ok? It might not be anything."

"Ok," Trixie said, and Chloe sighed when she could see that her daughter wasn't reassured. "Where's Lucifer?" she asked, and Chloe looked up at a sound near the entryway. "Lucifer!" Trixie cried out happily as she ran to him. 

"Hello, moppet," Lucifer greeted her, and Chloe met his gaze when he looked up at her. "Thank you," he told her softly, and Chloe felt the blush rise to her cheeks as she nodded. "So what are we making?" he asked, as he let Trixie lead him over the counter her mother was working at.

"Shepherd's Pie!" Trixie cheered, and laughed as she let Lucifer twirl her in a circle. 

"Really?" he asked, delight in his gaze, and took a chef's santoku knife from the magnetic board. "One of my favorites," he remarked, and Chloe wasn't certain if he was teasing her, or not. "We'll need someone to mix the spices," he said, and she watched as he looked to the girl in between them.

Chloe smiled when Trixie cheered at the job she'd been given and moved to grab the required herbs and spices. Cooking was something she and her daughter had done for the past two years, but her quiet enthusiasm had turned into effervescent energy when Lucifer had joined them in the preparation of meals. 

Both adults were content to let Trixie lead and dominate the conversation, taking pleasure from the normalcy they had been granted. It was a stark contrast ,and welcomed relief from the stresses they were both dealing with, Chloe with her case, and Lucifer with the hunt for his mother. For a few hours that evening, they were given the illusion of peace, and just maybe that would be enough to keep them both weathering the storms that had befallen them.


	12. Chapter 11

AN: Lucifer and all recognizable characters belong to Jerry Bruckheimer and FOX television. Set post 'Take Me Back to Hell'. (Written prior to the start of season 2.)

 

Summary: There is only one thing that can make an immortal vulnerable, only one thing that can hurt an angel aside from another angel - their mate. It was only a rumor, a baseless myth, something Amenadiel had never believed in, until it happened to Lucifer.

**Memento Mori**

Chapter 11

by WhisperingWolf

Chloe took in a deep breath as she stepped out of the elevator. She had spent the morning buried deep in the files she had taken, only to find more pieces. It had been easier at the time, to simply paperclip the progressed photos of the kidnapped children to the outside of their files, and do the same with the unsolved murders she had. Seventeen of the cases had been tied together, the dead victims being the kidnapped children, but that still left her with over fifty kidnapping cases, and thirteen unsolved murders.

She shook her head as she walked down the hall toward the offices, and knocked on Dr. Martin's door. There were answers she needed, pieces of the puzzle that seemed to make up the outer edge, but nothing that brought her a full picture. Adjusting the strap of the bag over her shoulder, she nodded a silent greeting to the smaller blonde woman, and stepped inside her office. It had taken convincing on her part, but she had been able to get Olivia's approval for assistance from Dr. Martin on the case files. She knew her boss wanted something more, but she didn't have much at all to give her.

"You seemed troubled when you called me this morning," Linda said as Chloe settled on her couch. "I was surprised that you asked for two hours, when we normally don't talk longer than thirty minutes," she said, offering the opening to her.

Chloe sighed as she nodded. "This is as much about me, as it is about the case," she told the woman seated across from her. "This . . . _name_ kept popping up everywhere, except that it didn't."

"I'm not sure I understand," Linda said, her head tilted to the side curiously.

"Every time I looked over one of the kidnap victim's files, the name Martin Cassidy would appear," Chloe said, her brow quirked in confusion. "Only it wasn't anywhere in the files. It was like a whisper in the back of my mind. The more I tried to ignore it, the louder it became. I asked my boss about the name, and Olivia called me this morning to tell me that he's a retired officer. He was injured in his rookie years, and had to work a desk instead of being out in the field. He did a lot of work in schools, community centers, and things like that," she told Linda. "Olivia's going to get me more information specifically on what appearances he made and when, but . . ." 

Chloe looked down as she shook her head. Biting her lip as she tipped her head back up to meet the doctor's gaze, her eyes were fierce and demanding. 

"I _know_ his name, but I don't know _why_ I know it," she told Linda. "The more I try to dig into it, the more it feels like the memory is hiding itself from me. I _need_ to remember. Whoever Martin Cassidy is, he feels like the missing link. I just . . . " She fell silent with a sigh, her brow furrowed as she looked down at the cup of water Linda had set before her. "I feel like if I can remember him," she said, and met the good doctor's gaze once more, "then everything else will fall into place."

"What do you want to do?" Linda asked her, and pulled back at the intense gaze Chloe cast at her.

"I want you to help me remember," Chloe said, and watched the woman's eyes widen. "If the memories could be buried through hypnotism, then it stands to reason that they could be revealed through it, too."

Linda raised her hand, her palm held parallel over her knee in a cautioning gesture. "Chloe, even if I did have any skill with hypnotism, I don't think that doing so would be wise, in your case. Memories are already coming back for you. They're unpredictable at best, but to open the door you're looking to unlock could have dire consequences."

"Like what?" Chloe asked, and released a harsh sigh. "It can't be any worse than what I'm already dealing with," she said, and watched the woman's brow furrow.

"Tell me about that," Linda instructed her. "What are you already dealing with?"

"The nightmares and waking dreams, you know about," she said, something she had told the woman about before. "I can control my reaction to those better, but not completely." She sighed, as she shook her head. "I'm missing time. Big chunks of it. I drove across town without any memory of doing so. I was in Evangeline's office and then the next thing I knew, I was sitting on the stairs leading down into LUX, talking with Lucifer. There's at least forty-five minutes that's just gone," she said, and folded her lips in over her teeth as she rubbed them together. "I don't remember leaving the office, I don't remember getting into my car, I don't remember any of it."

"Has this happened before?" Linda asked her, and watched Chloe nod. "This is something I cautioned Lucifer about when he told me about your nightmares, and it's something you and I need to talk about," she said, and lifted her glass of water to take a sip. "Chloe, as these memories resurface, you are going to experience more and more symptoms of PTSD. Once the memory is complete, and you are able to confront what happened, you may notice the symptoms lessen, or even disappear. How two people experience and react to a traumatic event is never the same, and no two people ever experience PTSD the same way. For some, and I suspect this will be true for you, the PTSD you are experiencing now is directly tied to the fact that you don't have all the answers yet. You can't make sense of what happened to you until you do."

"PTSD?" Chloe repeated, and she shook her head as she looked up. "That'll go over well."

"Chloe this is nothing to be afraid, or ashamed of. You've had to see a department counselor after every shooting you've been involved in, haven't you?" she asked pointedly, and Chloe nodded. "It's the same thing. They've asked you about nightmares, or moments of uncontrolled emotion, specifically anger, or fear?" she said, her tone turning the statement into a question, and Chloe nodded again. "PTSD has many forms, many stages, many different levels of intensity. I know that for most people, they think of PTSD as being something that only military veterans deal with, but that's not the case at all. Even something as simple as a mild car accident can bring on PTSD in people."

"I'm tired of feeling crazy all the time," Chloe confessed as she lifted her hands to cover her face. She let her hands fall slowly as she met Linda's gaze once more. "Lucifer has been amazing lately, throughout all of this, actually," she said, and laughed softly. "Through the nightmares, through everything, he's been my rock."

"I don't think he minds," Linda said, and Chloe smiled as she nodded.

"No," Chloe said with wonder. "He doesn't, but I do. I have been leaning on him more and more. I . . . I'm at his place all the time, I'm sleeping with him. Not sexually," she amended quickly with a shake of her head. "We've kissed once, but . . . It's different."

"How so?" Linda asked her for more, and Chloe sighed as she tried to think of how to put it all into words.

"Lucifer . . . he makes me feel . . . safe," she said, almost as though she were confused by the revelation. "I feel untouchable, like nothing could ever happen. I've never felt that before," she said, and blinked her eyes wide. "I find myself craving that feeling."

"You were married, weren't you?" Linda asked her curiously.

"I was, but it wasn't the same," Chloe denied. "With Dan . . . I love him. God help me, but I still do. But with Dan . . . I don't know, I . . . it always felt like I had to protect myself. We got married when I found out I was pregnant with Trixie, but it wasn't . . . I wasn't looking for a protector, or any of that stuff you read in romance novels. We were married, but I was me, and Dan was Dan."

"Explain that a little more, if you could," Linda requested, and Chloe's brow furrowed as she tried to find the words to make sense of it all.

"If Dan was late getting home and didn't call, or there was a big bust he was a part of, or any number of other things, I didn't . . . I didn't worry. I wasn't upset. Not when it affected me, anyway. He always put work before me, and that was . . . on some level, I didn't care," she said, and sighed. "It bothered the hell out of me when he was late for Trixie, or didn't show up at all for her. I hated it when he broke a promise to _her_ , but I don't know . . . When it was just me who was affected, I guess I just got used to it." Lifting the tepid water from the table, Chloe took a drink, and frowned. "We worked a few cases together, Dan and I," she clarified. "I was always looking around, checking the shadows, checking the corners. I was . . . hyperaware?" she spoke the term like a question, uncertain if that was the word she was looking for. "I would feel the danger before it came, and react before he did."

"And it's different with Lucifer?" Linda asked when Chloe fell silent.

Chloe nodded. "With Lucifer . . . I can let my guard down. I don't feel the need to watch for danger around the corners when we're out walking around somewhere, because I feel like he'll see it coming before I do, and stop it. When we're on a case together, I don't feel like I'm walking into a dangerous situation alone. Don't get me wrong, that man is a danger magnet," she said with a laugh, "but no matter how bad a situation gets, he's always protected me. He doesn't like kids, but he's been there for Trixie more than Dan ever has. He's teaching her how to play the piano even," Chloe said with an amazed laugh. "He . . . he makes me feel safe . . . He makes Trixie feel safe," she said, her eyes wide as though she hadn't considered the truth of her own revelation before.

"You trust Lucifer," Linda summarized, and watched Chloe nod. "That wasn't a question," she said, and Chloe met her gaze. "Chloe, you _trust_ Lucifer."

"I trusted Dan," she said with confusion, and watched Linda shake her head.

"No, I don't think you ever did," Linda said curiously. "Did you ever feel you could let your guard down with Dan?"

Chloe sat silent for a moment as she thought over her time with him. "No," she said after a few moments. "I always knew there were things he wouldn't be accepting of, or be able to handle, so I simply didn't tell him. But I had to trust him on some level, I married him," she argued, and Linda nodded.

"There are people worldwide who have married for convenience, or in a set of circumstances that makes it almost more of a business arrangement than a romantic one. We can marry people we don't fully trust," she told Chloe. "You said you married him when you found out you were pregnant, but let me ask you this: If Dan hadn't asked you to marry him, would it have upset you?"

Chloe took in a deep breath as she prepared to tell her that it would have bothered her, only to still as she released the breath slowly.

"No," Chloe said with some confusion. "No, I don't think it would have. But it should have, shouldn't it?" she asked.

"Each relationship is different," she informed her. "The relationship you had with Dan is nothing like what you have with Lucifer, and it shouldn't be. They are two completely different men, with two completely different histories, and the way they react to you, and treat you is different. Even if they were identical twins, your relationship with each one would still be vastly different. Tell me something, why did you and Dan separate?"

Chloe shook her head. "Dan has never been there for Trixie and I," she began. "He's always put work first, but . . . One day he went out shopping and had taken her with him. I don't know how they got separated exactly, but when he came home, she wasn't with him. She was still small enough that she had to be strapped in a car seat, and he _didn't notice_ that she wasn't there. Trixie's always been smart, damn smart, and she knew enough to get herself home by ordering a ride from my Uber account. But that day, that moment . . . " She fell silent as she shook her head. "When she arrived home, Dan was upset with her for wandering off, but she hadn't. It was his job to look after her, to know where she was, and he couldn't be bothered to do it. And after I'd put her to bed that night, he had the audacity to tell me that everything was fine because she was home. I don't think I've ever been so angry before."

"Did Trixie ever tell you what happened?" Linda asked curiously, and Chloe nodded.

"Dan had told her to wait for him over by the books, and she did exactly what he said. I went back to the store and asked to see the security tapes. Being a cop does have its perks," she said with an amused huff. "Trixie sat on the floor by the books for over three hours, reading through the nature and science magazines. Anything that had dinosaurs, or sharks on the covers," she said with a smile. "Dan never came for her. He left the store without ever going over to the books, and I just . . . I couldn't deal with it anymore. Broken promises, and being absent are bad enough, but to leave her at a store alone, when that store takes almost an hour to get to, and not noticing that she _wasn't_ in the car when she had to be strapped into a car seat? That was the last straw."

Linda blinked in surprise as she sat quietly across from her. She had never been married herself, but if she had been in the relationship Chloe had described with Dan, there was very little doubt in her mind that she would have reacted physically. 

"You know," Chloe said after a few minutes of silence. "My mother loves Dan. I think she still has hope that he and I will get back together, but she doesn't fully understand why that upset me. She reminded me that she'd forgotten me a few times at stores, and I had been just fine. I think that, more than anything, pissed me off the most."

"Your father?" Linda asked, and watched as a change came over the detective. 

She watched as Chloe's eyes brightened, her face becoming lighter, happier, as she thought of the man. Linda knew the detective's father had died when she was nineteen, a fact Lucifer had shared with her, but the love the detective felt for the man was there in the woman's eyes. 

"Daddy was . . . " She laughed suddenly. "He was kind of like Lucifer actually, definitely not a playboy, but he was rough around the edges, and all soft on the inside. The only people who got to see the real him were me and my mom, for everyone else he was the cop. It's kind of the same with Lucifer. Trixie and I get to see his softer side, but no one else does," she compared with a smile. "Daddy was the one who taught me to read. He sat up with me on the nights he was home if I'd had a nightmare, or couldn't sleep. He taught me algebra and geometry," she said, and laughed at the memory. "He was trained as a sniper, you know. He'd been in the Marines before he became a cop. It's funny, one of my strongest memories of him is when I told him I didn't understand Calculus in high school. Do you know what he did?" she asked with a laugh, and Linda shook her head. "He took me down to the shooting range, out in the back forty where they had the sharp shooters set up at. He taught me to hold a rifle, how to aim it for a moving target. And then, once I'd made a couple of good shots, he taught me the geometry, algebra, and calculus that went into calculating a sniper shot. The direction, angles, wind speed, rifling, all of it."

"He sounds like a good man," Linda observed, and watched Chloe nod.

"He was. He taught me how to box, so that I would always know how to defend myself. He taught me about gun safety when I was ten, and taught me to shoot a pistol when I was eleven. He taught me how to look for the things that were out of place, or listen for the things that didn't make sense." Chloe smiled as she laughed. "Jenna, one of my best friends in high school, was always a bit jealous. She said that her dad was what everyone else had. A guy who came home, said hi to her, or patted her on the head, but that she didn't see much of. My dad was the kind of dad that every girl wanted. No matter how many hours he worked, or how hard a case was, he always tried to make time for me. He never had much to spare, but he made the moments count."

Linda nodded slowly in thought. "I can understand the jealousy. My father wasn't part of my life very much at all. From what you've told me, I would say that my relationship is more like what Trixie has with Dan. Granted, I was never forgotten anywhere, but it was the same distance and absence."

Chloe bit her lip. "I miss him," she admitted. "My mom tried to brush aside his death. She was upset, of course, but she didn't understand why I was so angry. Daddy was everything to me, and then he was just gone."

"Detective," Linda called to her, as she pursed her lips in thought. "Tell me what you remember about your childhood. Specifically, your time in Glendale. The kidnapping is coming back to you, but did you remain in Glendale after?"

Chloe shook her head. "I remember mom and dad fighting a lot before we moved. I remember having a lot of nightmares, and not being able to sleep unless there was a light on. I remember . . ." She paused as she frowned, her head tipped to the side. "I remember being afraid, and not wanting to be away from Daddy. He took two weeks off before we moved, and I remember him sitting up with me every night, and reading to me before I went to sleep." She paused as she tipped her head to the side. "You know he had started teaching me to box before we left Glendale, and then we stopped because of the move, but he started teaching me again when the nightmares got really bad. He said it would help me feel better, and he was right."

"Do you remember being injured?" she asked, recalling the conversation they'd had with Mrs. Andrews. 

"No," Chloe said, confusion in her voice. "That's strange. I should remember being injured. I remember being tired a lot, and mom giving me these pills the doctor had given her for me."

"What doctor?" Linda asked, and watched Chloe's eyes narrowed into slits as she tried to pull on the memory.

"We went to see a man after we moved to the house in Malibu," Chloe said slowly, her eyes closed and brow furrowed deeply as she pulled on the memory. "I remember getting tired, really tired. I remember . . . I remember being upset because . . . " She sighed as the memory came through clearly, and felt anger towards her mother. "I didn't know where my imaginary friend was. My mom told me for weeks that I had just grown out of it. I remember being so mad at her, so angry at times that I couldn't see straight. And I remember being tired," she said with a sigh. "She was giving me sedatives, wasn't she?" Chloe asked, as she tried to make sense of it.

"To do what he did, and suppress your memories in such a manner, yes," Linda agreed. "They would have to be sedatives, or anxiety medication. Maybe not strong enough to make you sleep all the time, but just strong enough to make you tired and keep your mind in a suggestible state," she informed her, and Chloe shook her head in anger. "Your mother still won't talk with you about that time?"

"No," Chloe said, her blue eyes bright with irritation. "She'd rather forget it ever happened." She stood from the couch as she paced. "All I want is the truth, and you'd think I was asking her to go kill someone!"

"Our parents tend to have an idea of the person they want us to be," Linda told her, reasoning with the detective's anger. "They see one future for us, and right now, you are digging into a past she never wanted you to remember. In her own way, she may still believe that she's protecting you."

"And somehow her avoidance of that is ok?" Chloe asked incredulously.

"I didn't say that," Linda denied. "Tell me something, how would you describe your mother?"

Chloe sighed as she shook her head. "She's like a child. Everything has to be about her, and if she's not happy then no one gets to be happy. She used to doll me up and take me to auditions when I was a kid, and I hated it. Oh, I hated it. But mom wanted me to be an actress, to fall in love with the fairytale of the glitz and glamour." 

"But you didn't?" Linda asked her.

"I don't . . . " Chloe paused and sighed heavily. "I wanted to help people, I wanted . . . I wanted the truth," she said, and turned back to the couch as she reclaimed her seat. "I always knew when my mom was lying to me. I could spot it like one of those kids puzzles where you find the thing that doesn't fit in the picture. All I ever wanted from her was the truth, and it was the one thing she never seemed to be able to give me."

Linda nodded silently. "Getting back to the case," she began. "Have you been able to make any progress?"

"That was a big part of the reason I came," Chloe said, and reached for her bag. "I've been able to match up these sets of victims," she said, and handed Linda several sets of case files that had been held together two at a time by thick binder clips. "Gloria Martinez," she said, pointing to the first set she'd handed Linda. "She disappeared from Burbank, and resurfaced in San Bernardino. Her hair had been cut, and lightened from black to dishwater blonde, but the age progression photo in her kidnapping file is a dead ringer for Tanya Gutierrez," she said, and watched Linda unclip the files to look them over.

"Oh wow," Linda said as she looked at the pictures. "The faces are the same, but the hair style, color, and even her eye color have been changed. Her kidnapping photo lists her as being Cuban decent, but they made her look passable for being Argentinean."

"Cassidy Brothers," Chloe said, handing her another set. "She disappeared from Mira Loma, and resurfaced in Twin Lakes. She went from being a blonde with green eyes, to a redhead with blue eyes."

"Hair dye, contacts, possibly even with prescriptions," Linda said as she looked at the photos. "They would have to have at least one optometrist on staff. This is . . . "

"Big," Chloe agreed with a nod. "But these are just pieces. I still haven't been able to figure out how they're tied together, but I do know one thing. Out of all the cases I've reviewed, only Kari and I were taken together. Everyone else that I've found seems to be a one off."

"Which would mean?" Linda asked her.

"From what I've read in the file Evangeline had for me, and the case file they had for Kari, as well as the information she and her colleagues had been able to collect on the ring - and it was very little mind you," she said, her eyes wide. "They wanted me, but they couldn't leave Kari behind. I got away, but she didn't." She handed the case file from her own kidnapping to Linda. "From what Evangeline had tried to sort out," she said as Linda began to look through the file. "She believed . . ."

"They were going to sell you," Linda said as she looked over the notes, and met Chloe's gaze. "Which would mean they've sold other children."

"Yeah," Chloe said with a slow nod. "I'm still trying to process it all. I can't make sense of it. The very idea of it . . . "

"Give it time," Linda advised. "This is a lot for anyone to process. What else?" 

"Did I tell you why I started this investigation?" she asked, and Linda shook her head. "I overheard a few of the rookie beat cops talking about a rumor they had heard from the streets. A cop that was using his badge to get away with rape and murder. We hear stories like that all the time, but usually when a suspect is trying to get out of something. I couldn't let it go," she said, as she shook her head. "I don't know why, but it wouldn't leave me alone. I went into evidence and case file storage. There was this one case from about five years ago that stuck out to me. I looked for the girl's case file, and . . ."

"And what?" Linda asked when she fell silent.

"Her description of her attacker and the man she thought had been posing as a cop was a perfect description of Malcolm," Chloe said.

"The man who took your daughter recently," Linda said, and Chloe nodded.

"And then that led to a few other cases with similar M.O.s and witness descriptions. One led to me another, and then another, and soon I was falling down this rabbit hole," Chloe said, still in some manner confused by the turn of events. "I don't know if he had anything to do with the kidnappings," she said, and paused as she licked her suddenly dry lips. "But Mel, his widow," she clarified, "left me a voicemail last night. She said she found some things of Malcolm's that didn't make sense to her, and that she didn't want anything to do with."

"She didn't throw them out?" Linda asked, and Chloe shook her head.

"In the voicemail, she said there were files with the department logo on them. She didn't look in them to see if they were case files, or not, but he easily could have taken home an empty folder to put things in that he didn't want her took at," she reasoned. "I'm going to go see her later this afternoon, and see what she has. It's funny," she said, and shook her head in bemusement. "For the longest time, Mel was angry at me, hated me even, for my investigation into Malcolm. But now, after everything that's happened, I'm the only one she'll talk to from the station."

"It sounds like she trusts you because you saw the truth when no one else did," Linda observed, and Chloe laughed.

"And that made me a lot of enemies," she said. "Dan won't see, or talk to Trixie at all," she told Linda, and sighed. "It's killing her, I know it is. She doesn't understand why he's refusing contact from her, and he refuses to explain it to her. I've tried to explain. I've told her that he doesn't want her to see him in jail, and that he isn't adjusting so well to being there now, but all she can see is that he doesn't want her." Chloe shook her head as she sighed in frustration. "Almost a week ago, Lucifer gave her this little teddy bear devil," she said, and laughed. "He thinks it's hideous, but he got it for Trixie because it reminded him of her. I think it's adorable, and Trixie . . . She won't let go of it. She treasures it more than anything else she owns. When she's scared, she hugs it. When she's doing her homework, it's sitting beside her. When she's helping me in the kitchen it's sitting somewhere that she can easily see it. It's this . . . little thing, and to her it means more than gold."

"How does that make you feel?" Linda asked, and Chloe sighed as she opened her eyes wide.

"I . . . I feel like Trixie has with Lucifer what I had with my dad," she confessed softly. "He listens to her, truly listens when she speaks. Dan only pays half-attention, or brushes her off. She is fascinated with one particular movie - Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron. Not simply because of the horses and artistry, but mostly because of the music. So, Lucifer started teaching her to play one of the songs she likes the most."

"You seem surprised," Linda observed, and Chloe laughed.

"Aren't you? He's hardly the man we thought he was in the beginning. The first time we worked together, he shielded me with his body to protect me from the bullets Jimmy was firing. I've seen him do things I can't even begin to explain. I have watched him push forward, and dig deeper time after time to get answers, and justice for someone who has been killed. He is reckless, and arrogant, and more sexually charged than any person I've ever met, but he is also kind, and thoughtful, and he never does something simply for the sake of doing it. He may do things, outrageous things," she said with a laugh, " to get attention, but he never does anything simply to get praise for doing so. Not when it truly matters anyway."

"He's grown a lot working with you," Linda said, and Chloe smiled wistfully. 

"He really has," she mused.

**~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~**

Lucifer looked at Chloe from where he sat in the passenger seat of her cruiser. He had insisted on being with her when she spoke with Trixie's teacher, wanting to know exactly what was going on. Aside from a 'hello' when she had picked him up at LUX, she had been silent. He wondered if it was him, if he had earned her ire somehow, but the more he studied her the less he believed her to be angry. If anything, he thought, she looked confused. 

"Are you alright, Detective?" he asked, and watched her startle, as though she had forgotten he was in the car with her.

"I'm fine," she dismissed his concern, and his frown deepened. 

"You've been more than a bit distracted," he told her, and watched her open her mouth, her jaw working, but no sounds coming out. "Has something happened?"

"That file," she said, and nodded to the L.A.P.D. case folder on the seat between them. "What do you make of that?" she asked, and he frowned as he stared at her a moment longer before lifting the file.

"These are Malcolm's?" he asked as he looked through the papers.

"Yeah," she said, and turned to look at him as she stopped for a red light. "Mel called me last night and asked me to come get them. She didn't want anything of his, but because it was in a L.A.P.D. folder, she didn't feel right throwing it out." 

Chloe shook her head as she pulled through the intersection, switching lanes, as she made her way toward the school. Lucifer moved several of the papers as his confusion grew stronger, and narrowed his eyes on one page in particular.

"This says Malcolm has over two hundred thousand dollars," he said with confusion.

"I know," Chloe said with a nod. "But it doesn't exist. Not that I've been able to find. Mel's swimming in debt because of him," she said, and sighed. "There are some other things in there that don't make a lot of sense. I'm going to dig into it all later and see what I can find."

Lucifer nodded, and looked up when she turned off the engine. Setting the papers neatly back in the file, he closed the folder, and left it on the seat between them as he exited the vehicle. The school was empty, save a few cars that he was certain belonged to the teachers. Walking beside Chloe, he was grateful for the relative solitude of the empty school. Whatever children had been there during the school hours were gone now, and only a few adults remained behind. 

"Karen," Chloe greeted the long-term substitute for her daughter's class.

"Chloe, thank you for coming," the woman returned her greeting, and smiled as she turned her attention to Lucifer. "You must be Lucifer," she said, as she tucked her dark hair back behind her ear. "Trixie never stops talking about you," she said with a smile, and Lucifer chuckled.

"All terribly wicked things, I'm sure," he teased in return. "Beatrice said she's been separated from the rest of her class," he stated the reason for their visit.

"She has been," Karen agreed, only to quickly reassure them. "She's not in any trouble. It was mainly a test," she told them, and met their gaze's in turn. 

"A test for what exactly?" Chloe asked, and Lucifer turned his gaze on her.

"I've been subbing for her class for a little over two months now," Karen began, and stepped toward her desk to gather a stack of papers. "In that time, she has not completed any homework, at least not that she's turned in, however," she said, and handed the stack of papers to Chloe. "As you can see, she has passed every single test she's taken," she told them. "The only reason, and I do mean _only reason_ that she hasn't received a perfect score is because she's put her nickname on the top of the tests, and not her given name. She knows that a nickname will detract two points from the score of the test."

"You separated her because she has good marks?" Lucifer asked with confusion.

"Yes," Karen answered with a slow nod. "At first, I thought she might be cheating on the exams," she said, and held up a soothing hand in a motion for silence. "When I made her sit apart from the others, I learned that she wasn't the one cheating, it was those around her. Chloe, your daughter knows that writing "Trixie" instead of "Beatrice" will detract two points. She simply could have written "B Espinosa" and that would have been accepted."

"You're saying she made certain to get below a perfect score on purpose?" Chloe asked with confusion.

"Yes," Karen said. "Chloe, to be quite honest," she said, and sighed. "I think she's bored. She's reading books like Where the Red Fern Grows, and Black Beauty. Those books are at least two grades above her as far as reading levels go. She didn't even pay much attention to her math test the other day, and I know the other kids struggled with it. I asked her what she thought of the math she was learning, and she just shrugged. She told me she was learning different math from a maze."

"No, not a maze," Lucifer corrected her. "Her name is Maze - Mazikeen," he told her. 

"I asked Trixie to show me what she was learning, and this is what she wrote," she said as she handed a paper to Lucifer. "She understands accounting math. I know adults who don't understand it to any degree, and to her it's simple."

"So the reason you asked to see me," Chloe said, and Lucifer watched as Karen turned her attention to the detective.

"I'd like to get her placement testing," Karen said. "See where she falls, because this . . . " she said, and waved her arm to the classroom. "This is barely enough to keep her entertained. What your daughter needs is a challenge, and she's clearly not getting it." The woman shook her head in wonder, and laughed. "A few weeks ago, I asked her to help Billy with his math homework, and she asked me for a bag of M&Ms. I was curious, so I gave them to her," she told them. "She looked at the problem he was having trouble with, poured the candy out on his desk, and started showing him the math through the chocolates. It was simple, ingenious really, and he understood it in a way I've never seen him understand anything." 

Chloe nodded quietly and Lucifer smiled proudly as they took in the woman's words. Trixie wasn't in trouble at all. He was amused by the thought that she had been holding out on them. He knew she was smart, her attempt at learning just a few words of Hindi on their day out had been evidence enough of that. 

"Well, Detective," Lucifer said as he turned to Chloe. "What do you think?"

"I think . . . Trixie's going to find herself taking a lot of tests soon," she said, her eyes wide as she nodded slowly.

**~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~**

Chloe stood in the doorway of the in-house gym Lucifer had in his penthouse, her shoulder leaning against the frame. She shook her head as she watched her daughter strike at the punching mitts Mazikeen wore on her hands. The bartender sat across from Trixie on the work out mat, her legs folded Indian style, with her hands held up at shoulder height. She laughed and shook her head as she heard the woman egg her daughter on, challenging her to hit harder.

"I'm!" Trixie hit the pad on Mazikeen's right hand. "Not!" She hit the left pad. "A princess!" she growled as she performed a double hit to the right glove.

"She's learning quickly," Lucifer said approvingly as he came up behind Chloe, and stood against the other side of the open door. "Maze has been impressed."

Chloe nodded absently, her mind distracted as she watched her daughter train with the ninja bartender. She blinked slowly as a memory from her childhood rose to the forefront of her mind, her lips tilting up in a wistful smile.

_"Come on now, wildcat," her father said as he slapped the punching mitts he wore together. "Keep your hands up. Don't leave an opening."_

_She lashed out with her fist, catching one thick pad, only to have the other tap her on the jaw. The hit wasn't too rough, just enough to get her attention and remind her to keep her other hand up in defense while she punched with the other._

_"Your opponent is going to look for whatever opening they can find. Don't give it to them," he coached her, his voice deep and commanding._

Chloe blinked the memory away, and turned her head to find Lucifer staring at her curiously. Her mouth tipped up at the corner in a lopsided grin and she shrugged.

"My dad gave me lessons like that when I was about her age," she told him. "If there was something that scared me, he would take me out to the gym, wrap my hands, and hold the bag for me while I hit it. Knowing that I could defend myself, that I was strong enough to fight back if I needed to, that got me through so much," she said, and smiled softly as she watched Trixie hit the punching mitts Mazikeen wore. 

"Hi Mommy!" Trixie cheered, and Chloe laughed as her daughter ran up to hug her.

"You're all sweaty," Chloe told her with amusement. "Did you and Maze have fun?" she asked, and nodded her appreciation to the other woman.

"Maze taught me a few new moves!" she told her happily, and Chloe smiled in curiosity.

"Oh really?" she asked, and watched Trixie jog over to the free standing boxing bag.

She watched her daughter perform a roundhouse kick, followed closely by two-one punch combination, and ended the move with a fierce backhand blow. Nodding as she smiled, Chloe cheered her daughter on and laughed when the girl demonstrated a few more moves. Trixie was fearless, graceful, and brave. She caught on to the fight training easily, but also knew not to attack anyone without cause. She would need to get a punching bag to keep at their home, of that she was absolutely certain. 

"Good job, monkey," she told Trixie, and hugged her when she came to stand in front of her once more. "It's time to go home. I'll be taking you into school tomorrow, but Maze will pick you up after school, ok?" she said, and watched the girl nod. 

Encouraging her daughter to go take a shower, Chloe waited for her to leave before turning her attention on the girl's instructor. Her gaze was fierce, almost angry, the nightmares of the past two weeks fueling her emotions. Nodding for Mazikeen to step aside with her, Chloe tried to gain control of her thoughts, her fear, before she spoke. 

"I need you to do something for me," she began, and was met by the bartender's confused frown. 

"You're shaking," Mazikeen observed with confusion. "What do you need?"

"Teach Trixie how to get out of binds," she said, and Mazikeen's frown deepened. "Ropes, cuffs, whatever you can think of, just teach her how to get out of it. Make it a game, if you have to, just . . ."

"You're scared," Mazikeen observed as she studied Chloe. "You're really afraid of her being kidnapped again, aren't you?"

Chloe nodded as she swallowed back her fear. "The more . . . pieces I put together, the more memories that come back, the more I . . . Just please teach her how to save herself."

"I will," Mazikeen answered her sincerely. "Chloe," she called her attention. "We won't let anything happen to her. She _is_ protected."

"I keep telling myself that, too," Chloe said, clenching her jaw against the ache of her fear. "But we can't always be everywhere she is at every moment. Malcolm took her from her school," she reminded the woman. "I was taken in broad daylight. I - "

"You remember it?" Mazikeen asked, remembering what Lucifer had told her.

"Only pieces of it, nothing that makes a whole lot of sense. It's mostly the feeling of being trapped. The ghost of something tied around my wrists and ankles. The inability to move," she said, and shook her head. 

"Maybe I should train you, too," Mazikeen offered.

"Might not be a bad idea," Lucifer agreed, and Chloe jumped at the sound of his voice. "You did say you felt safer, stronger when your father trained you," he reminded her, and Chloe nodded.

"It's been a while since I've had a decent sparring partner," Chloe agreed, and nodded. 

"I thought you lot had to take fight training?" Lucifer said with amusement. "No one worthy of you?" he asked with a curious arch of his brow.

"No one willing to be near me after the Palmetto case," she told him, and sighed. "There were more than a few people who wanted to hit me, I'm sure, but no one tried."

"I can take whatever you can throw at me," Mazikeen told her with teasing arrogance. "Might be fun to roll around together."

Chloe looked at her blankly for a moment before she laughed and shook her head. They were both outrageous, sexually charged, and completely inappropriate at times, but no one had ever made her feel safer, or been able to break her out of a dark mood quite as easily. Deciding to give as good as she got, she locked her eyes on Mazikeen before letting her gaze sweep over the woman as she looked her up and down.

"We'll see who lands on top," she returned, and heard Lucifer purr salaciously next to her.

"I can't wait," Mazikeen purred with delight.

**~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~**

"Decker," Chloe answered her phone as she stepped out of her car, and locked the doors as Trixie raced up to the house. "Hello," she spoke as she waited for a response. 

She disconnected the call with a sigh, and unlocked the front door as she tucked the phone back into her pocket. Whoever had been on the phone had been disconnected, or it had simply been a misdial, she told herself. She closed her eyes as she locked the door, and rested her head against the cool wood. It wasn't the first time she had gotten an empty call like that, but those kinds of calls were increasing in frequency. The more she tried to brush it off as nothing, the more unsafe she felt.

It didn't take her long to get Trixie tucked into bed. The training sessions with Mazikeen made her feel more secure in her daughter's safety, but it also helped wear the girl out, and for that she was grateful. Walking back out to her car, she collected the boxes of files from the trunk and brought them into the house two at a time. No matter how safe of a hiding spot she had, she didn't trust the files being out of her sight. Reaching for her phone when it rang again, Chloe looked down at the screen only to still at the name on the caller ID. Lifting the phone to her ear as she answered the call, she greeted Olivia with curiosity and concern given the late hour.

"I didn't want you to hear about this on the news," Olivia told her, and Chloe frowned.

"Hear about what?" Chloe asked, and felt her blood turn cold as fear spiked within her.

"Evangeline McAllister is dead," Olivia told her. "I know you've been working with her lately. She called the station a few days ago looking for you."

"How?" Chloe demanded, and heard the woman sigh heavily.

"Carbon monoxide poisoning," she answered. "Under normal circumstances, no one would question it, and it could be chalked up as a faulty furnace. But considering that I know you've been working with her . . . I'm having it investigated as a potential homicide for right now. As for Martin Cassidy," she said, and Chloe nodded as she held the phone to her ear. "I've emailed the files to you along with five other officers from the same time and service type. It'll make it easier to explain the investigation later if there are six names pulled rather than just one," she explained. "What can you tell me?"

Chloe sighed. "Not a whole lot," she said. "There are pieces that are coming together. Unsolved kidnappings from five to twenty years ago that I'm able to trace to recent unsolved murders, but I can't put it all together yet. . . Olivia?" Chloe called to her when the woman remained silent.

"Do you have the name Sophia Cardman among those files?" Olivia asked her softly, her tone guarded, and Chloe frowned.

"Let me check," Chloe said, as she moved to the boxes she'd set on the table. "Yeah," she said a few minutes later, having found the file in one of the boxes from the Center. 

"Have you been able to find out anything about her case yet?" Olivia asked, and Chloe's frown deepened.

"I haven't yet, why? Who is she, Olivia?" Chloe asked, and narrowed her eyes when the woman remained silent.

"She was my daughter," Olivia answered after a few moments. "Her father and I separated after her case went cold. I go by my maiden name," she told her, and Chloe's lips parted in surprised horror.

"I'll do what I can," Chloe promised her sincerely. "Olivia, I'm so sorry."

"Just find me answers, Detective," Olivia said heavily. "No matter what anyone tells you, it's the not knowing that's the hardest," she said, and the line clicked out a few seconds later.

Chloe shook her head in disbelief as she set her phone down on the table, and opened the file. Sophia had been five when she was taken almost ten years ago. She had been far younger than any of the others, but her file had been included because Evangeline had believed she was a victim of the ring. The girl had been with her parents at a park in San Francisco when she was taken. According to the reports, Sophia had been with her father seconds before she was taken. Chloe stared at the girl's picture with wide eyes. She had her father's coloring - blue eyes, pale blonde hair, but she had her mother's delicate bone structure and high cheekbones. 

"Oh God no," Chloe whispered as she looked at the handwritten notes one of Evangeline's teammate's had made. "She was sold."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To Sara, A**, Jaychan, and so many others, this is for you. Thank you for your amazing support.


	13. Chapter 12

AN: Lucifer and all recognizable characters belong to Jerry Bruckheimer and FOX television. Set post 'Take Me Back to Hell'. (Written prior to the start of season 2.)

 

Summary: There is only one thing that can make an immortal vulnerable, only one thing that can hurt an angel aside from another angel - their mate. It was only a rumor, a baseless myth, something Amenadiel had never believed in, until it happened to Lucifer.

**Memento Mori**

Chapter 12

by WhisperingWolf

Chloe stared at the open file in front of her through narrowed eyes. There was something nagging at the back of her mind, something her eyes were seeing that her brain wasn't quite latching onto. Releasing a deep sigh as she closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose, Chloe stood from her seat at the table and moved to the kitchen. There was no doubt in her mind that she would be up all night. With the new information Olivia had sent her, the knowledge that her boss' child had been kidnapped almost a decade ago, and the file that Malcolm's widow had given her, it would be downright impossible for her to sleep. 

"CPL," she whispered the initials to herself as she poured water into the coffee maker's reservoir, and added grounds to the mesh filter. "D.C. CPL," she whispered as she shook her head. "D.C. . . . D.C. . . . Derek Cardman. It's not a location, it's initials," she said, barely remembering to hit the button to turn on the coffee maker before she returned to the table.

One by one she took out the case files from the center regarding the kidnapped children. Roughly two-thirds of them had notes scribbled in the margins with the signature _'D.C./CPL'_ written underneath. Derek Cardman had been one of the people working in secret with Evangeline to research the kidnapping ring. Her hand covered her mouth as she shook her head. She began looking through each of the files he had made notes in until she found the earliest date, and her eyes widened. 

"He started working with her two weeks after Sophia was taken," she whispered, her eyes wide with stunned disbelief. "Olivia thought he'd given up, but he hadn't."

She needed to talk with him, but as the thought took hold she remembered what Evangeline had told her. The other two people she had been working with were dead. Olivia hadn't just lost her child, she'd lost her ex-husband as well. Dropping her head into her hands, Chloe took in a deep breath and reached for the Surface Pro tablet she carried for work. If there was any luck at all on her side, there just might be a police report and investigation into his death.

"Bingo," Chloe said, and smiled with a touch of satisfaction as she opened the case file into Derek's car accident. 

There wasn't much to go on, not that she could see at first glance, but there may be something deeper down. Connecting her computer to the portable printer, she set the case file to print, and opened her email. There were six different files attached to the email Olivia had sent, each one pertaining to a different officer. Setting the files to print without looking through them, she returned to the message Olivia had left her.

_Chloe,_

_It looks like Martin Cassidy worked mostly with after school programs at the Y, and as a D.A.R.E. officer. The other five officers I attached the files for did the same. Each D.A.R.E. officer would have one school district that they covered. Martin Cassidy's was responsible for the Glendale Unified School District. I don't know what exactly you're looking for, but I did find a current address for him, if you needed to talk with him. It looks like he lives in Malibu, about two miles away from you, actually. He inherited his uncle's house a few years back._

_Keep me in the loop,_  
_Olivia_

Chloe read the email three more times before she sat back against her chair, her eyes wide and face pale. Martin Cassidy had been this close to her for a few years, she thought as her breath came faster. Each time she heard, or read his name it inspired anxiety, but now that she knew how close he was, she felt panic take hold, followed quickly by anger. She didn't know how he was involved exactly, but she would make damn sure that he would go down for whatever he had done. 

Clicking the file marked with his name, she opened it, and froze at the sight of his picture. Her face paled as she stared at his face.

_"Class, let's give a warm welcome to Officer Cassidy!" Joanna called out, and clapped her hands as she led the class in applauding the man in the blue uniform._

_"Hey kids! I am a police officer, just like your teacher said," he said, and hooked his thumbs in the front of the wide belt he wore to carry his equipment. "You can call me Officer Martin, or Officer Cassidy," he continued._

_His eyes scanned the room twice before they settled on her, and Chloe stared back blankly. She didn't like the way he looked at her, but remembered what her father had taught her. Don't let them know what you're thinking. If you feel threatened, don't let it show, and don't let your anger show, either. They'll play on it, and play you. To stay in control, you've got to be in control. Think of your emotions like a glass of water, it doesn't move, until you move it._

_She watched him walk down the aisle to her left before he came back up the aisle on her right. He stopped next to her desk, and tapped the index and middle finger of his left hand on her desktop. She met his gaze when he turned to look at her, and she knew that he knew who she was._

_"You've got your mama's classy looks," he said quiet enough that she barely heard him._

"That son of a bitch knew me," Chloe whispered as the memory faded away. "He _knew_ me," she said again as anger took hold. "Oh my god," she whispered a few moments later when she opened the file pertaining to the one and only arrest he had ever made. "That's the man from the car. That's the man who took Kari."

She stared at the screen as she read the details. The man had been arrested for shoplifting a set of boy's clothing, and after one night in jail, he had been released. Everything had been retracted, but there was still an official report in the files. There was no listing for a son, but the boy from the car had been in her class. Her breath caught in the back of her throat as another memory took hold.

_"Come on, wildcat," her father told her as he adjusted the grip she had on the rifle in her arms. "You've got it lined up perfect, and the air's pretty still. It'll be a perfect shot."_

_"Daddy, if I've got my own scope, why do you have one, too?" she asked him with amusement, and turned her attention back to the scope attached to the weapon she held._

_"I'm your spotter, baby," he told her with pride. "Sniper teams work in pairs. The spotter lines up the shots and works out the variables. The sniper takes out the target." ___

"Martin Cassidy was a spotter," Chloe whispered to herself. "Why in the _hell_ would a cop be a part of this?" she whispered angrily. "If he knew me, he knew my dad. Why . . . ?" 

The question died on her lips as she grimaced and rubbed at her temples, trying to chase away the migraine building behind her eyes. She moved her hands, taking her fingertips away from her temples as she pressed the heels of her hands against her head as hard as she could. There was another memory forming, one that was clawing its way to the surface like a snarling dog, and she whimpered in pain as she squeezed her eyes closed. 

_She couldn't see anything. She couldn't move, she could barely breathe. There was nothing but darkness on all sides of her, and as she tried to move her hands, she found that they were bound together in front of her. It took effort to lift her arms, the tiny space she had been tucked into limiting her movement. There was something on top of her, all around her, and it was then she realized that she was trapped in some kind of box. Her breath came faster as fear took hold, her heart racing as she heard a door open._

_Four footsteps in close rhythm to each other meant that two people were coming down the stairs. Her father had taught her to count footsteps when she was three. He made it a game, but now she understood why. If she could count the footsteps, she would know how many people were coming near her. She heard a click, and seconds later there was cool air blowing on her face._

_"Damn, Rick," a man said, and she realized with shock that the voice belonged to Officer Cassidy. "I didn't really think you'd get her. Her old man was always real proud to say how much of a fighter she is."_

_The other man laughed. "A girl is a girl. Give a girl a rose, and she'll fall for you every time."_

"How many?" Chloe growled angrily as the memory faded. "How many kids did he help take? How many lives did he ruin?" she asked out loud as she searched through the papers from the printer until she found the listing of the appearances he had made with dates and locations. 

She reached for the thick legal pad that she made her notes on, and turned to the start of the pages where she had listed the children by location taken, and date. Exactly two months after each appearance he made at a school, a child had been kidnapped. It was circumstantial at best, but the pattern was there. She needed to find more information on his partner, the man he had called Rick. Turning back to the computer, she printed her abductor's photo along with the arrest report. 

"Hagar Richardson," she read the man's name. "More commonly known as Rick." 

Minimizing the email window, she brought up the L.A.P.D. database and entered the man's name. His arrest record may have been wiped clean according to the courts, but there was another listing for him in relation to a report filed by a school in Burbank. He had been suspected of child abuse by a teacher, but both he and his son had disappeared before any investigation could be performed. That had been six months before she and Kari had been kidnapped. 

She needed to get into both Martin's and Rick's financials, but getting records from that far back would be damn near impossible. Before she could even see if the records existed, she would have to get a court order to have them pulled. And a court order, she thought with a sigh, required enough evidence to compel a judge to open the records. Her head tipped to the side in thought as an address near the bottom of the screen caught her eye. Most of it looked faded, whether it was due to time, or the scanner used to digitize the files, she didn't know. 

"Faircrest View Trail, Beverly Glen," she read aloud, and copied down the street name and city into the pocket notebook she carried for work. "Why is that familiar?" she asked of no one, and narrowed her eyes as she reached for the file Mel had given her. 

Chloe opened the folder as her eyes moved back to the computer screen. The name of the street was far too familiar for it to be a coincidence, and as she turned back to the file, she found the connection she'd been looking for. The photo was black and white, barely in focus, but that was the house she kept seeing in her dreams. The same house she had tried to describe as a child. 

"The Barbie house," she whispered, as she stared at the photograph. 

Her eyes turned away from the picture as she looked down to the information typed on the page. The same street was listed, but there was no house number with it. Barely three sentences pertaining to its history, she found that the house had been built in the late eighteen hundreds. It had changed hands several times, at one point being used as a school for young children. In the late nineteen thirties, it had been used as a halfway house for unwed mothers. They would stay there for the last semester of their pregnancies, and give birth, only to leave the baby to be adopted by a family. 

In nineteen seventy-one, the house had been seized by the bank, but never resold. It stood alone without any registered occupants, but had been maintained as a historical landmark. According to the sheet of information, there had been a caretaker, but he had died in nineteen seventy-nine. No one had owned, or looked after the house since that point, at least not according to the paper, but there was something else that had been written below that, only to be scratched out. She couldn't read much of what Malcolm had written, but there were three words that caught her attention. 

_Children. Auction. Basement._ Those were the only three words she could make out, but it was enough. She needed to go there. She needed to see the house. Everything would make sense if she could just see the house in person. Scrubbing her hands over her face as she fought against the exhaustion she felt, Chloe stood from the table, knocking Malcolm's file over in the process. Papers spilled out across the floor in a haphazard array, but there was one that caught her attention, and she crouched low to pick it up. 

"PayPal," she read aloud with confusion as she stared at the sheet of paper. "I know this," she whispered as she studied the code he had written in, able to reorganize the letters and read the words easily. "This is the code they used to put on the backs of the Popcorn Pals boxes," she said as she stared at it. 

A cheap local knock off of Cracker Jacks, Popcorn Pals claim to fame was the hidden code they would put on the backs of the boxes. She hated the candied popcorn, but her father had gotten it for her because she was fascinated by the encryption. How many times had she bought the same treat for Trixie for the same reason? The code wasn't hard to break, and she frowned as she reached for a pen and began to inscribe the translation. 

By the time she was done, she had a list of names, dates, locations, and case file numbers. Pinching the bridge of her nose as she set the papers down on the table, she stepped into the kitchen and poured herself a cup of coffee. Downing half of the cup in one go, she grimaced at the scalding heat of the liquid, and refilled her cup before returning to the table. She was so close now to putting the pieces together that stopping to sleep almost felt like a betrayal to herself. Sitting down at the table, she reached for the transcribed sheet, and began typing in the case file numbers into the L.A.P.D database. 

Each file was a homicide case that had been investigated by Malcolm. Most of the victims were drug dealers, or prostitutes, but there were a few that were civilians. One in particular caught her attention, and she studied the case file on the screen as she tried to place the name she seemed to know. Sarah Kroeger. She shook her head as she studied the woman's picture, before sitting back with surprise. 

The case file for her murder had attributed her death to random violence, a robbery slash home invasion gone wrong. A few of her more notable enemies had been questioned as suspects, but there had been no resolution to her killing. She had been an insurance investigator, in charge of recovering stolen assets, but as she stared at her picture, she couldn't help the thought that the woman looked far too familiar. 

"Melinda Kroeger," Chloe whispered the name aloud as she reached into the pile of files in front of her. "Son of a bitch," she cursed as she read through the information. 

Melinda Kroeger had been kidnapped from a school field trip to the zoo when she was eight. Six months after her disappearance, when the police had given up the search and marked her case as cold, the initials 'S.K.' had begun appearing inside the margins of other case files, and notes pertaining to the ring. 

"She was trying to find her daughter," Chloe said to herself as she stared at the file in her hands. "They were both trying to find their kids, and in their search they were trying to help Evangeline find the others." 

Looking up sharply at the sound of the knock at her front door, Chloe frowned and looked down at the clock in the bottom right corner of her computer screen. It was after one in the morning. Who could possibly be knocking at her door at this hour, she wondered, and stood from the table. Stepping across the room, her frown deepened to see her mother standing on the other side of the door, and she opened it quickly. 

"Mom, what's wrong?" Chloe asked immediately, and watched as a mix of resignation and regret crossed her mother's face. 

"I don't want anything to do with your investigation into this," Penelope Decker began, and reached into her purse to pull out a small silver key attached to an old L.A.P.D. key ring. "Your father kept a safety deposit box. I never wanted to know what was in it, but in his papers, he said that you were to be the one to open it. He said I would know when the time was right to give it to you." 

Chloe accepted the key quietly, and took the letter her father had included in his will for her mother. She shook her head as she stared at both before looking up to meet her mother's gaze. 

"Why won't you just talk with me about this?" Chloe asked, frustrated and confused. 

"Do you have any idea what it was like to watch your child wake up screaming every night?" she asked, and shook her head. "After we got you back, you couldn't sleep, you wouldn't eat, and you wouldn't talk to anyone, but your father. I couldn't get near you, no one could except for him. Chloe your injuries weren't healing, you were catatonic at best during the day, and terrified beyond all measure at night. I did what I thought was best." 

"I don't remember everything yet," Chloe told her mother as she shook her head. "But I know that I got out and Kari didn't." 

"And you couldn't help her, Chloe," Penelope said. "It was driving you insane. The more you tried to tell people where she was, the more everyone chalked up your descriptions to stress. No one listened to you. You tried to run away more than a few times, convinced that you knew where she was, and after having just got you back, I couldn't . . . " Penelope shook her head as she swallowed back her emotions. "I'm done talking about this. I came over to tell you that I got a role for a soap opera in New York. I don't know when I'll be back," she said, and Chloe sighed as she watched the woman turn and walk away. 

Chloe watched her mother's car pull out of the driveway, and sat down on the front stoop with a sigh. To uncover the truth, she had to lose her mother, and it wasn't fair. All she wanted were answers. She needed to know what happened, but the more she learned, the more she felt that everything was spiraling madly out of control. Leaning her head tiredly against the open doorframe, Chloe closed her eyes and felt the cool air soothe her distraught nerves. 

There was a shift in the air around her, a familiar scent, but her mind was too tired to make sense of it. She hadn't thought she'd fallen asleep, but she must have, Chloe thought. She frowned at the feeling of warmth surrounding her, and moaned softly when she felt herself lifted into the air. She tried to open her eyes, her vision too blurred to make sense of anything, and whimpered softly when she tried to speak. 

"Shhh. Go back to sleep, darling," Lucifer soothed her, and she curled against him as he carried her through her house. "It's alright," he promised her as he lowered her to her bed. 

She felt him remove her shoes before he tucked her beneath the blankets. The mattress dipped beside her as he sat down on the bed by her hip, and seconds later she felt the gentle pressure of his lips at her temple. Oblivion returned to her as she fell back into the darkness of her dreamless sleep. 

Lucifer released a slow breath as he remained seated next to Chloe until he was certain she was asleep. Trixie had called him over when she had woken to the sound of her grandmother's voice and had dressed quickly to greet her, only to find her mother sleeping outside the front door. Looking back to the door of the bedroom, his lips pulled up to one side in a bittersweet smile, and he stood to go to Trixie's side. Lifting the girl into his arms, he carried her down stairs to her room, and sat with her on her bed. 

He knew that she had school in only a few hours, but also knew that she wouldn't return to sleep so easily. She had known something was wrong for a while now, but neither he, nor her mother had had the desire to explain it to her. They didn't want her to share in the darkness of either of their investigations. He chuckled softly when he felt her reach out to the side, and looked to see her trying to grab the teddy bear he had given her. Shaking his head as he grasped the stuffed toy, he handed it to her, and watched as she tucked it in her arm before curling against him once more. 

"Fancy a song?" he asked her, and grinned in amusement when she shook her head. "No?" he asked, and felt her ribs expand as she breathed in deeply, before sighing heavily. 

"Story," Trixie requested instead, and Lucifer smiled. 

"What kind of a story would that be then?" he asked her, and moved to sit back against the headboard of her bed as he kept her wrapped in his arms. 

"Tell me about the stars," the child asked quietly, and he dropped a kiss to her hair. 

"The stars, hm?" he mused, and stroked her hair. "I helped light them, you know," he told her softly, and leaned his head back against the wall as he began his story. "So long ago, before time even truly began, there were my siblings and I. I was so much different than I am now. Everything fascinated me. I was loved by my family, and loved them in return. I was nothing like the me you know now. I was younger, newer. I believed in . . . everything. I was as innocent as you are." 

"I love you, Lucifer," Trixie mumbled drowsily as she began to fall asleep in his arms. "You're part of my family." 

"I suppose I am," he agreed with her. "I love music, I always have," he told her as he continued his story. "I loved to turn the air through the trees, to make a song with the breeze upon the leaves . . . " 

**~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~**

Chloe stared up at the house in stunned silence, and disbelief. The need she had simply to stand in front of this house and view it with her own eyes instead of through the faded lines of a photograph had been powerful and unrelenting. She didn't know what she had been expecting, but the overwhelming lack of intimidation hadn't been it. The house didn't loom over her, or have demons, or ghosts coming from the shadows of hollowed out walls. It just looked like a normal house, except that it was anything, but normal.

The pink and white Queen Anne Victorian looked just as she remembered it, though now a few of the windows had been boarded up, and the foliage around the home had grown wild. She had remembered the path through the woods to get here, the house sitting behind a stand of trees so thick that she couldn't see the house from the road. Chloe took in a deep breath as she stepped up to one of the bottom floor windows and looked in through the dirty glass.

She hadn't told Lucifer she was coming here, and part of her regretted that decision now. Kneeling in the calf-high weeds, she rubbed her hand against the window, clearing away dirt and grime as she peered inside the darkened basement. Her breath caught in her throat as she bent forward, and whimpered at the pain that exploded behind her eyes as images and sounds assailed her mind.

 _Darkness surrounded her on all sides, the enclosed space too small to turn around in, and Chloe knew that if she had any hope of escape she would have to wait until the man opened the box he had put her in. She could hear Kari's frightened voice, and knew that the boxes they were kept in had to be close together. Her father's words came back to her, giving her clarity through her terror._

_She heard him whisper to her in her mind, telling her to focus on what she was afraid of. Tell me why you're afraid, he had instructed her one night after she had woken from a nightmare. He hadn't told her that it was only a dream, or to just go back to bed. Instead, he had instructed her to identify what was causing her fear._

_"I've been taken by people I don't know, and I'm trapped in a very small place. I'm afraid because I don't know where I am," Chloe whispered aloud, and felt herself calm at the acknowledgement of her fear._

_'What do you know about what's causing your fear?' he had asked._

_"I know that I've heard three different sets of adult voices. One woman, two men. I know that when they come to open the box, there's only one set of footsteps. I know that one of those men is the cop from my school."_

_'Can you run from what's scaring you, or do you need to fight?' her father's voice whispered inside her mind._

_"I need to fight, but I can't because my hands and feet are tied," she continued, and tried to focus on the details as her father had instructed her to, in order to keep her fear from controlling her. "If I can get free, I can run. The man unties my feet to make me walk, but keeps my hands tied." A spark of hope ignited in her as a moment of realization came to her. "He makes me talk to him to make sure I'm awake. If I don't talk, if I play dead, he'd have to take off my blindfold to check my eyes. Daddy always says you have to check the eyes to see if someone has a concussion."_

_It was only a few moments later that she heard the scrape of the key in the door, and the impossibly loud crack of the door lock being released. She listened as she held her breath, and felt a moment of relief when the door was closed after it had been stepped through. That meant no one else would be coming down. One set of footsteps sounded on the stairs, the steps growing closer to her box. Releasing the breath she'd been holding, Chloe relaxed as much as she could, keeping every muscle as limp as possible._

_The lid of her box was opened, cooler air brushing across her face, and fought against her fear as the man called to her. My name's not Lola, asshat, she thought, using her anger as a shield against her fear. It took every ounce of will she possessed to keep her muscles relaxed and limp, staying absolutely quiet as he lifted her out of the box. She fought against the urge to breathe, and heard the anxiety in his voice when he laid her down on the cold floor._

_"God damnit," he growled. "I told that son of a bitch to be careful with her. Had a buyer already lined up for her. Shit."_

_She felt his fingers at her face, and seconds later felt him remove the blindfold. Three . . . Two . . . One. Chloe snapped her eyes open, and brought her knees to her chest before kicking out with all the strength she could muster. The man had been unprepared for her attack, and fell back, cracking his head against the floor as she struggled with the ropes around her wrists and ankles. She had just barely freed herself when he recovered and came after her, but she didn't give him a second of rest._

_She kicked him as hard as she could, and bit down on his hand when he reached for her. Curling her fingers into talons, she scraped her nails down his face as she held onto him with her teeth strong enough to make her jaw ache. He screamed and cursed as she opened her mouth only to bite down somewhere else, and she tasted copper as blood filled her mouth. She felt his skin tear under her nails, and continued kicking, scratching, and biting until he stopped trying to control her._

_Landing hard on the floor, Chloe rolled to her feet and ran for the wall. She knew that the house was close to the road, had been able to hear the sounds of cars and normal traffic, muffled though it had been. Her eyes widened when she looked back over her shoulder to see the bloodied man chasing after her, and knew she had no time to waste._

_She grabbed onto whatever she could as she climbed the metal shelving unit and scrambled toward the small rectangular window. Remembering her father's words, she made a fist with one hand, and gripped her fist with the other before smashing her elbow into the glass window pane. It didn't shatter as she had expected it to, but it broke just enough that she was able to punch her way through it. Shards of glass tore at her skin, and she felt the warm dampness of her own blood as it ran down her arms and legs._

_He had tried to grab for her when she had reached the outside, and she gritted her teeth against the pain as she grabbed onto the thick branches of the bush outside the window. Sharp thorns cut into her palms and fingers, but she held tighter as she kicked back against the hand that encircled her ankle, and pulled herself out of the window. Gashes were torn into her legs from the broken glass, long thorns were pushed deep into her palms, as others tore open the flesh of her fingers, but she didn't let go until she was free from the house._

_She could hear voices shouting as doors slammed inside the home, and fought against the pain as she scrambled to her feet. The thorny bush scraped against her legs, pulling the gashes wider as thorns and leaves were added to the glass in her wounds. She didn't stop when the sharp tiny rocks scattered in the grass cut at the soles of her feet. She didn't stop when she heard the people chasing after her. And she didn't stop when she heard the snarl and snap of the dogs they kept._

_She ran as fast as she could through the trees, trying her best to keep from crying out at the pain burning through her muscles and skin. The sound of tires on asphalt lured her closer, and she scrambled to her feet each time she tripped, or fell. She watched as a line of cars drove past, the vehicles moving slower than she thought they should, and realized she had seen this kind of thing before. It was a funeral procession._

_One of the cars that passed by was a small truck, and she gathered the last of strength as she ran after the back of it. The thorns in her hands dug in deeper as she jumped up to catch the low tailgate, and pulled herself over into the bed. Her breaths came in harsh pants as she reached for the dark green tarp next to her and pulled it over herself to hide from view. She didn't know how long she'd been in the truck when it finally came to a stop, but stared up in fear when the tarp was pulled away._

_"Oh my god," an elderly man said as he stared down at her in horror._

_"My name is Chloe Decker," she told him, her fear getting the better of her as she began to cry. "I want to go home."_

The memory faded away as quickly as it had come, and Chloe stumbled away from the window only to fall to the ground a few steps away. Her eyes were wide as she covered her mouth with her hand, her breathing harsh and uncontrolled. How had she forgotten that? How could she possibly forget _any_ of this? She scrambled to her feet as her shaking hands pulled her phone from her pocket and dialed the one number that had come to mean safety. 

She was shaking uncontrollably as she held the phone to her ear, only barely able to keep hold of the device. Her mouth opened and closed as her fear overwhelmed her, and she fell to her knees as she called Lucifer's name like a mantra. She needed him. He had always kept her safe. She cried when she was no longer able to hold the phone, the device falling to the grass by her leg. She curled in on herself, wrapping her arms around her knees as she buried her face in the hollow between her knees and chest. 

The terror of the memory overwhelmed her, and in that moment the only thing she could feel was the desperation and blinding panic of the child she had been. Her sobs choked her, and she cried out in fear when she felt her arms seized in a tight grip. She didn't think as she fought against whoever was holding, crying as she tried desperately to get free.

" _Chloe!_ " Lucifer's shout broke through the haze of her fear, and she froze as she blinked up at him. "It's me!" he shouted at her, and held her tighter when she choked on the air she was desperately trying to breathe in. "It's me," he said again as he drew her against his chest. "I'm here, darling. I'm right here," he promised her as he moved her to sit in his lap, and she realized absently that she was still calling his name. "Breathe, Detective," he commanded her, as she hyperventilated. 

A sharp whimper sounded from her as she reached for him, and sobbed as she clung to him, too terrified to think clearly. His arms held her tightly as she felt him rock her, and she sobbed brokenly as she tried to press closer, hiding against him as her fear clouded her mind. She heard another voice, deeper, richer than Lucifer's and trembled in fear, only to calm when Lucifer began stroking her hair. The voice spoke again, but she couldn't make out his words, or Lucifer's when he talked back to the man. 

She didn't know how much time had passed when she felt her fear finally leave her, and curled against Lucifer as she blinked slowly. Exhaustion weakened her aching muscles, and she felt him shift her easily, before he changed the way he held her, and stood from the ground slowly with her cradled in his arms. She turned her head toward the other voice that was growing more recognizable, and frowned in exhausted confusion to see Amenadiel standing in front of her.

"It's alright, Chloe," Amenadiel soothed her as he reached out to brush the tears from her cheek. "You're safe now," he promised her, and she blinked slowly as her exhaustion overwhelmed her.

Turning her face back to Lucifer, she leaned her head against his shoulder and whimpered tiredly as he carried her. She wasn't sure where they were going, and closed her eyes as she fell asleep in Lucifer's arms.

**~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~**

Lucifer looked at the computer screen with a worried frown. It had been a little more than a month, seven weeks at most, since his mother had escaped Hell and there was still no sign of her. There had been no sign of Michael, or Lilith, either. If Lilith had escaped Hell after her attack on Mazikeen, it was likely that she was with his mother, and helping her hide. Michael, he had expected to hear from, but his brother was keeping silent as well.

Had their Father finally discovered his brother's betrayal? Had he learned of the lies Michael had told from the beginning? Was he finally beginning to understand that it had been Michael, and not himself, who had whispered rumors of the rebellion in Heaven until the war had finally happened? Lucifer shook his head as he released a harsh sigh at himself. Even if their Father had learned the truth in any manner, the man wouldn't care. 

It had been too long now to go back. Too late for apologies, or redemption. He knew that even if things did change, he could never go back. He didn't trust his Father, he didn't trust any of them anymore. Abandoning the computer, he moved to the bar, and sat down as he poured himself a much needed drink. Lucifer closed his eyes at the feel of his brother's presence, and looked up at the mirror behind the bar before he greeted Amenadiel. 

"She's got to be warded," Amenadiel said as he stepped further into the penthouse. "I've searched everywhere, and there is nothing. The darkness that spreads among the humans she corrupts is nowhere to be seen. If she is corrupting them, she's doing it slowly, and keeping them hidden."

"L.A. has a series of underground areas," Lucifer told him, and closed his eyes as he dropped his head. "Maze is right," he said, and turned to meet his brother's curious stare. "Lilith has to be with her. Only Lilith would know how to keep herself, and anyone else hidden from angels. She knows the warding to use because I taught it to her."

"You knew how bad Lilith was. Why did you teach it to her?" Amenadiel asked curiously as he stepped closer, and accepted the glass of scotch Lucifer poured for him.

"Curiosity mostly," Lucifer admitted with a shrug. "I wanted to see if she would be able to use it as she wasn't an angel. She wasn't even really mortal anymore, but that seemed to be the tipping point from her transforming from an evil soul into a demon. She created the rest of the demons, including the ones I have kept under the tightest locks inside Hell. I was angry at Father, furious that he hadn't stopped to listen, or ask _me_ before he cast me out. Hell was always my domain, it has been since the beginning. Father had me create it. Father tasked me with punishing the evil souls," he said, and released a tired sigh. "But I didn't want it. All I wanted was to continue creating the stars, but Father declared that job done." He turned toward his brother, his brow furrowing to see the way Amenadiel was staring at him. "What?"

"Father _made you_ create Hell?" Amenadiel asked, and Lucifer nodded, the expression on his face telling his brother that he should've already known this. "You didn't create Hell because you wanted something that was completely opposite of Father?"

Lucifer pulled back, insulted and disbelieving of his brother's question. "No," he denied. "Whoever told you that . . . " He fell silent as he turned away, hurt and betrayal swirling inside of him. "Michael told everyone that, didn't he?" he asked, and heard Amenadiel's sound of agreement. "Michael and Raphael were the _only_ ones who knew the truth about Hell. I never _wanted_ Hell. Not in any manner. I _wanted_ free will for _all_ of us. Michael was jealous of my ability to create. It had been a gift from Father, and he wanted it." Lucifer snorted in anger and disbelief as he stared down into the amber liquid in his cup. "Do you know what Michael used to call the humans when we were alone?" He looked at Amenadiel in the mirror, watching his brother shake his head as he sat quietly next to him. "Father's greatest mistake," he repeated Michael's words. 

"Your refusal to love the humans more than Father?" Amenadiel asked, and watched Lucifer shrug.

"I didn't understand why He created them. They were flawed, imperfect. He gave them free will to do what they liked with, and more often than not, they used that free will to destroy. There were a few humans - _very few_ \- that I found any value in at all," he said, and lifted his eyebrows in a facial expression of a shrug. "I asked Him to explain to me why He created them. Why they were so important. I wasn't _challenging_ Him, I just wanted to _understand_ Him. But as Father so often does, He took my questions as a direct challenge to His authority. All the rumors that came after were care of Michael."

Amenadiel took in a deep breath as he processed what he'd been told. If there was one thing he knew to be absolutely true about Lucifer, it was that his brother didn't lie. Lucifer never had. He found that the truth was a sharper weapon, or stronger shield than any falsehoods ever could be. 'Why hide behind a lie when you can strike with the truth?' Lucifer had asked him once, before his brother had fallen.

"That's why you've always seemed to hate all of us, isn't it?" Amenadiel asked. "It's why you've always been so adamant about only punishing the guilty."

"As if any of it matters now," Lucifer said tiredly. 

"Are you alright?" Amenadiel asked, genuine concern in his voice and expression. "You seem . . . off."

Lucifer released a deep sigh through his nose as he reached for the bottle of scotch. He was exhausted, beyond anything he could remember, but more than that was the constant ache in his chest. He wasn't sure when he had started to feel it, but did know that in the past two weeks, the ache had not left him once. Setting the bottle aside as he lifted his glass to his lips, Lucifer drank deeply of the amber spirit.

"Detective Decker was kidnapped as a child, but her memory of it was suppressed. The case she's - _we're_ \- working on, is bringing it all back." He sighed tiredly. "Her memory's coming back in disconnected pieces, and there are times that she can't tell the difference between the memory she's seeing, and the world around her." He told Amenadiel, needing someone to talk to about it, and rubbed his knuckles against his sternum. "I can't breathe half the time. Unless she's with me, it feels like . . ."

"Like she's tugging at you?" Amenadiel asked, and Lucifer nodded tiredly. "You cut off your wings, brother," he reminded Lucifer, and was met with his brother's annoyance. "Even if you hadn't, when was the last time anyone ever truly prayed to you?"

Lucifer pulled back with a frown, his brother's question making no sense to him. "No one's ever prayed to me."

"Speaking from experience," Amenadiel told him. "When someone - human, or angel, prays to you specifically, you don't just hear it. You _feel_ a tug. The stronger the prayer, the harder the tug. And if she's been as afraid as it sounds like she has been, then she's been tugging at you nonstop. To ignore a prayer is exhausting beyond measure," he admitted. "It weakens us. Chloe may not believe in angels, or demons, but Trixie told me that you have always protected them, always kept her and her mother safe. You know better than anyone that a prayer is little more than a directed desire to have someone with you. Chloe's probably been praying to you without either of you realizing it."

"Prayer?" Lucifer asked as though the idea of it were foreign to him. 

"The desire to have you with her, the need to not be alone," Amenadiel told him. "The _need_ for _you_ to be with her," he said. "These are the things that would create the energy of a prayer. Where is she now?"

"I don't know," he admitted tiredly. "I've called her, but it just went to voicemail."

"What worries you most about being apart from her right now?" Amenadiel asked, and Lucifer frowned.

"Her mind," Lucifer admitted after a moment. "The more traumatic the memory is that resurfaces, the less she is able to distinguish it from the world around her. The few times she has fallen asleep on her own, her nightmares have been . . . all consuming. The only time I know she's slept peacefully is when I've held her."

Lucifer stood from the barstool, and stared at the sky beyond the windows of his penthouse. The glass fell from his hand, shattering on the floor, when he felt the pressure around his chest increase to a maddening level. His breath cut off, his legs folded beneath him, and he would have hit his knees had it not been for his brother's strong grip around him. He felt Amenadiel lead him to the couch, and blinked his eyes wide as he fought against his blurred vision.

He heard a distant sound in the background, something like music, and felt Amenadiel press something into his hand. Looking down, he found that he was holding his phone, Chloe's name showing in the center of the screen. It took effort to separate himself from the pressure that suffocated him, and regain enough control to answer the call, only to be greeted with her frightened voice as she chanted his name with fear and desperation.

"Chloe?" Lucifer called to her, but she didn't seem to hear him. "Darling, where are you? Chloe talk to me," he bid of her, and looked up at his brother.

"I've got her," Amenadiel said as he opened his eyes, grabbing Lucifer in his arms seconds before he spread his wings and took flight. 

"Put me down!" Lucifer commanded a few moments later when he caught sight of Chloe on the ground. "Chloe!" he called to her as he ran toward her huddled form, the sound of his brother's footsteps running beside him. "Bloody hell," he whispered as he crouched in front of her, and grabbed her shoulders, only to have her fight against him as she panicked. "It's me!" he shouted at her, refusing to let her go, listening as she called his name. "It's me," he repeated, his voice a bit softer, and watched as she finally looked up at him, her eyes wide and terrified.

Lucifer sat down in the grass and dirt as he wrapped his arms around the woman and pulled her into his lap. He held her tightly as she released a keening wail, the sound of her terror wild and uncontrolled. In that moment, he knew that she had no idea where she was, too lost in whatever her mind was showing her. He held her tighter as she continued to cry his name, and tucked her head beneath his chin as he rocked her.

"I'm here, darling," he promised her as he held her tightly. "I'm right here," he reassured her, and pulled back when her breaths came in hard, uncontrolled pants. "Breathe, Detective," he commanded of her, and looked up when he heard his brother move closer.

"What happened to her?" Amenadiel asked as he stared at the human woman in concern and horror. 

"She was with her friend when they were kidnapped as children," he told his brother. "She fought and was able to get away, but couldn't get her friend out. She was a child, and no one listened to her because they couldn't make sense of what she told them. This house," he said, and nodded toward the pink and white Queen Anne Victorian. "It looks like what's she's described before. She can make sense of what she saw now, as an adult, but when she was a child, she described this as being a 'Barbie house'. And the man who took them as being a monster."

Lucifer sighed in relief as the madness that had constricted his chest released slowly, and looked down to find Chloe blinking up at him exhausted. He dipped his head to kiss her brow, and held her close as he stroked her hair. Reaching into her pocket, he retrieved her car keys and tossed them to his brother, before taking her phone from the ground next to them and tucked it into his pocket. He gathered her close as he stood from the ground, and watched her turn her head when Amenadiel came closer.

"It's alright, Chloe," Amenadiel soothed her as he reached out to touch her cheek. "You're safe now," he promised her, and pushed just enough of his angelic energy into her to release the last of her fear.

"Where are we?" Lucifer asked as he carried Chloe, and walked beside his brother to her car in the distance.

"Beverly Glen," Amenadiel told him, and pressed the button on the remote to unlock the car doors. 

"That's a fair distance from where she was taken," he said with confusion. "Hold her for a moment," Lucifer instructed as he laid Chloe in his brother's arms.

"What are you doing?" Amenadiel asked as he Lucifer searched through the glove box.

"I don't know how she found her way back here, but I've got to get the address of this house," he answered. "It needs to be investigated. She _needs_ answers."

Chloe whimpered as her eyes opened, only to fall closed again as she called Lucifer's name. He returned to her immediately, tucking the paper he'd written the address on in his pocket, before taking her from his brother. He spoke to her softly as he soothed her and tucked her into the front passenger seat of the car. Climbing into the car beside her, he tucked Chloe under his arms, and held her as his brother handed him the keys through the open window.

"Father's calling me," Amenadiel told him, as Lucifer met his steady gaze curiously. "I don't know when I'll be back."

**~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~**

"Chloe."

The detective blinked at the sound of the woman's voice and turned her attention on the blonde sitting across from her in Lucifer's penthouse. She vaguely recalled the car ride that had brought her here, remembering only bits and pieces after she had found the house. Her head ached worse than any hangover she'd ever suffered, and she felt decidedly unsteady as she reached out gratefully for the warm mug of tea Lucifer brought to her.

"Well, look who's back," Lucifer said with relief as he met her gaze. "You've been more than a bit out of it. Unresponsive might be a better word," he told her when she frowned.

"I remember everything now," Chloe said, blinking heavily as she sighed. "It feels like I've had my head in a vice."

"Your memories have been fighting through the blocks put in place to come back," Linda reminded her. "You've only had pieces before, but for everything to come back in a rush as it did, would indicate that something rather traumatic happened," she said, offering Chloe the opening to speak.

Chloe nodded slowly, and released a deep sigh. "I found the house," she said. "The place where I escaped, where Kari and I were kept." She shook her head as she frowned in confusion. "When the memory returned of me escaping, I . . . I was me, but I wasn't. It was like . . . "

"Like it was happening all over again," Linda finished for her, and Chloe nodded. "You had to relive the memory in order for it all to come back. How do you feel now?"

"Really tired," Chloe said, and blinked her eyes wide as she held them open. "But I'm not scared anymore," she said after a moment, wonder in her voice. "I can remember everything that happened from the moment the car pulled alongside us, to my escape, to . . . everything. Even the doctor mom took me to, and the weeks of nightmares in between. I remember Officer Cassidy talking to my class. I remember the sound of his voice in the basement. I remember . . . I could hear Kari crying. She was so scared, and I remembered all the times Daddy had taught me how to control my fear by acknowledging what caused it."

Chloe's eyes fell closed as she shook her head in defeat, and felt Lucifer's hand on her back as he tried to offer her comfort.

"I remember promising Kari that I would get her out. I told her not to worry, that I would bring back help," Chloe said as tears filled her eyes, and spilled onto her cheeks. "I just left her there," she said as she took in a trembling breath.

"Not your fault," Lucifer said as he took the mug from her shaking hands, and set it aside on the low table before she could drop it. "You did your part, detective. You told whoever you could, but no one listened."

She nodded as she let his voice soothe her overwrought nerves. "I tried to run away, three maybe four times," she told them. "I knew if I could just get back to Kari, I could get her out, but I didn't know where the house was. Everything looked different, and once I was home . . . I couldn't tell anyone where the house was."

"Do you remember talking to any cops about it?" Linda asked, and Chloe nodded.

"I was mad. I don't think I've ever been so mad," she said as she sat forward, resting her elbows on her knees as she took her tea to sip at the fragrant liquid inside. "Everyone thought I was just confusing things, but Daddy listened to me when I told him that Officer Cassidy had been in that house. Mom, she . . . I don't think she ever believed me. Being kidnapped and escaping, she had no choice, but to believe that. But the house? Officer Cassidy? My promise to Kari that I would get her out? She wasn't willing to believe any of it. Mom, she . . . "

"Detective?" Linda called to her when she remained silent.

Chloe's eyes narrowed as she pulled on the wisp of memory. It was almost there, and she knew it was important. She could see her mother talking with Officer Cassidy, hear her apologizing to him. He was handing her a card, Chloe thought as she focused harder on the images inside her mind and tried to get a closer look at the piece of white card stock. Her lips moved, but no sound came forth as she tried to see the name that was barely a blur inside her memory.

"Patrick . . . " Chloe spoke the first name she could see on the card, and focused harder on the memory as the pounding inside her skull grew more pronounced. "Billings," she said after a long moment. "Patrick Billings," she repeated with certainty as she met first Linda's gaze, and then Lucifer's. "That was the doctor - the hypnotist, my mom talk me to. Officer Cassidy gave his card to my mom. He knew him, or at least knew of him."

"Love to ask that bloke a few questions," Lucifer growled low.

"I don't know about the doctor, but Olivia said Officer Cassidy retired to his uncle's house a few miles away from me," Chloe said without giving much thought to what she had said, and Lucifer's low growl caught her attention.

"He is near you?" he asked her dangerously, and Chloe nodded.

"It was in the email Olivia sent me last night," she told him, meeting his anger fearlessly. "I saw his picture in his file, and everything started flooding back. The man who took us, his name was Hagar Richardson. Cassidy arrested him once, and I don't know if they had known each other before then, or not, but it was only a few months after that man was arrested that Cassidy was in my classroom. And then only about two months after that when we were taken."

"That man knows you escaped," he pointed out to her. 

"I know," Chloe said, and swallowed thickly. "I think he's been watching me. Either that, or I'm a lot more paranoid than I thought."

"Chloe," Linda called to her, redirecting their attentions back to her. "What is it you've discovered? I've seen the surprise and disbelief in your face since I walked in. You've learned something that you're not quite willing to accept."

Chloe nodded slowly. "There are so many people who are a part of this. People who were trying to find their kids. People who were trying to find themselves. Most of them are dead now, and the ones who should have been protecting them - the cops - are the ones who were in the thick of it from the beginning." Chloe fell silent as she shook her head. "I think part of me was hoping that this was all some kind of nightmare. But now that I have all the information that I do, and my memories are there and in order I . . . I go back to work in two days, and with all that I've learned so far . . . I don't know who I can trust."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My continuing thanks for all of your amazing reviews. For those who have asked, we will get to see Maze and Chloe sparring, just not quite yet.


	14. Chapter 13 "Chloe's Attacked"

AN: Lucifer and all recognizable characters belong to Jerry Bruckheimer and FOX television. Set post 'Take Me Back to Hell'. (Written prior to the start of season 2.)

 

Summary: There is only one thing that can make an immortal vulnerable, only one thing that can hurt an angel aside from another angel - their mate. It was only a rumor, a baseless myth, something Amenadiel had never believed in, until it happened to Lucifer.

**Memento Mori**

Chapter 13

**"Chloe's Attacked"**

by WhisperingWolf

She didn't see the fist that lashed out as she turned the corner, the blow to the side of her head knocking her to the floor. Spots danced in her vision as pain exploded across her cheek and temple. A booted foot lashed out, catching her in the stomach, and she cried out as she folded in on herself. Bile burned at the back of her throat as nausea twisted her insides, and she hissed as a hand fisted in her hair to drag her to her feet. Whoever had a hold of her slammed her face first into the wall, and she grunted with the impact.

"Stop looking into cases that don't concern you," a man hissed in her ear, his voice too low to recognize. "Or you'll end up like your father."

Chloe cried out when he pulled back sharply with the hand fisted in her hair, and slammed the side of her head into the wall before he threw her to the ground, kicking her once in the ribs to make his point before he left. She groaned as she rolled up to her hands and knees, panting with the effort it took to move, the pain lancing like fire across her ribs. She was unsteady as she got to her feet, and hissed as she pressed her hand against her injured side. Her eyes closed as she slipped down the hall and into the bathroom. Every effort had been made to keep her investigations quiet, but still someone had found out.

"My father?" Chloe said as she thought about what the man had said. "My dad was killed in a shoot out. He . . . What?" She shook her head as her mind reeled with the words spinning through her mind. "Damnit," she cursed as she looked at the shattered screen of her phone.

The device wouldn't even turn on, the damage done beyond repair. She needed to make certain that Trixie was safe, but had no use of her cell phone. She turned her head as she stared at her reflection. The red mark on her face from where she'd been struck was quickly darkening, and she knew it would leave a nasty bruise. There was another mark on her temple from when she'd been slammed into the wall the first time, and she sighed. 

"How the hell am I supposed to explain this to Trixie?" she asked herself, and pulled back with a hiss when she bent too far. "That's just great," she said, and groaned at the pain and nausea each move caused, only to wince as she breathed in. "I didn't even see his face."

There was no way to tell who had attacked her. The worse part of it was that it had happened here, inside the police station, just barely inside the records room where there was a blind spot in the cameras. No one had seen what had happened, and there was no telling how many people knew, or were involved. Was everyone corrupt, or was it just the handful of cops she had found so far? She had no way of knowing how many active cops were involved, the ones she had found so far either dead, or retired. And now the thought that the shoot out her father had been killed in could have been staged because he had been digging into corruption cases like she was . . . She didn't know what to think, or who to trust. 

There were only two people - one in particular - she knew she could trust. Chloe's eyes moved back and forth across the bullpen as she moved back to her desk, her eyes scanning for danger as she stepped over to her desk. She picked up her hard phone, dialing her daughter's cell phone, and waited for her to answer. 

"Mommy!" her daughter's excitement came over the line to her. "Are you going to pick me up after Kelley's party?" she asked, and Chloe glanced at the clock on her computer.

"No, baby. I'm sorry, Trixie, but you need to tell Kelley you can't go," Chloe said, a soft apology in her tone. "I want you to go see your new friend, okay? Don't go with anyone else, just take a ride from mommy's account, okay?"

There was a long pause, and Chloe could almost see the wheels turning in her daughter's head as she put the pieces together. 

"Mommy, what's wrong?" Trixie asked, her voice subdued, and Chloe sighed. 

"Nothing's wrong, baby," she soothed her daughter. "I just want you to go straight there, okay? Don't leave until mommy comes for you," she instructed. 

"Ok, mommy," Trixie agreed, her tone making it clear she understood the gravity of the request. 

Chloe hung up the phone moments later, and ground her teeth as she bit back a wince. Her side was burning where she'd been kicked the last time, and it hurt to breathe. She needed to go home, but first she knew she had to sneak the case files she had been working with out of the station. She wanted to go back and gather the evidence file from her father's case, but wasn't certain how wise a decision that would be. 

Lucifer hadn't checked in with her for a few days, and for the first time, she was grateful for his absence. His temper when an innocent person was hurt, or killed had been questionable at best, but if he saw her now, she could only imagine what his reaction might be. She was in no manner afraid of him, but the thought of him trying to go after whoever had done this to her, and facing down who knows how many corrupt officers to do it, frightened her with the thought he could be hurt himself, or killed. She was careful to look around her, keeping her surveillance as subtle as possible as she stuffed the files into her bag. Her lips folded in over her teeth as she straightened, and she held her breath against the combined pain and nausea the movement inspired.

Her hands shook as she hoisted the bag onto her shoulder and winced at the pain. She moved as quickly as she dared, doing her best to act as though nothing had happened, while wanting to be anywhere but where she was. She was a cop. Police officers were supposed to make her feel safe, but all she felt was fear After the Palmetto case, and then Malcolm's kidnapping of her daughter, her trust in her fellow officers had been shaky at best. But after everything she had learned over the past several weeks, her trust had all but failed completely. Taking in a deep breath as she unlocked her car, Chloe slipped behind the wheel with a grimace, and started the engine.

**~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~**

Lucifer moved his hands over the piano as he stared at the instrument in thought. His fingers moved on their own, pressing in on the keys slowly as he began to play 'Knocking on Heaven's Door', the music seeming to flow of its own accord. He was thinking about Father Frank again, the man on his mind often of late, and sighed as he tried to force the memories to the back of his mind. Of all the people on earth, why had it been him - a rock musician turned priest? His connection to the man had been strong and fast, something he blamed the music for, but he didn't know how to bury the emotions that came with the memories.

He blinked quickly, shaking himself as he looked down at the small child that was suddenly tucked against his side. She looked up at him when the music stopped, and where he had expected to see her elation at his presence, or even her upset if she was seeking comfort, he instead found her eyes to be filled with worry for him. He frowned as he stared at her and lifted his arm to tuck her closer against his side, a move that also made it easier for him to play the piano. 

"You look sad," Trixie told him, her small face looking up at him imploringly. "Mommy said your friend died. The piano man," she said, and he sucked in a deep breath as he nodded. "When Mommy gets sad when she thinks about grandpa, she'll tell me stories about him. Did you want to talk about your friend?" she offered, and he gave her a shaky smile as he chuckled and held her close in a one-armed hug.

"I'm alright, moppet," he said, and kissed her dark hair. "But thank you." His brow furrowed in confusion as he tipped his head at her. "Does your mother know you're here?" he asked her, and watched her pull back with a frown. "Weren't you supposed to be going home with your friend this afternoon?"

"Mommy didn't call you?" Trixie asked, fear and worry furrowing her small brow.

"Was she supposed to?" he asked her as he turned to give her his full attention, and watched her nod silently. "Tell me," he asked of her, and rubbed her shoulder when she tucked closer against his side.

"Mommy called me just before Kelley's mom was supposed to pick us up," Trixie told him, her small face contorted in a mix of confusion and worry. "She told me take a ride from her account to see my new friend," she said, and looked up with a smile when Mazikeen set a glass of club soda and a small bowl of gummy bears on the piano for her. "Hi Maze," she greeted her friend, and Lucifer watched as his faithful guardian bent low to accept the hug the child freely offered.

"Hi Trixie," Mazikeen returned, and straightened as she moved to lean against the side of the piano.

"Beatrice," Lucifer called Trixie's attention. "Your mother specifically said 'your new friend', but not any names?" he asked, and watched the girl nod. 

"She told me not to go with anyone, and to wait here until she came to get me. She sounded . . . weird," Trixie said, and met his gaze. "Mommy always says your name, or the name of the place she wants me to go, but this time she didn't. And she didn't say that either of you were coming for me. The way she talked, only she and I would have understood what she meant."

"So the good detective was speaking in code," Lucifer mused with suspicion. "Odd."

"Mommy really hasn't called you yet?" Trixie asked, and Lucifer shook his head. 

"What is it?" Lucifer asked as he studied the child next to him.

"Mommy didn't call from her cell phone," Trixie told him. "She called from a station phone. I tried to call her phone, but it just goes to voicemail."

Lucifer narrowed his eyes in suspicion as he removed his phone from the inside pocket of his suit jacket. He didn't think about what it meant that he had Chloe on speed dial, or that she had taken the number one spot and Mazikeen had been moved to the number two spot. Trixie was in his phone as well, her number reserved as the third spot, but there was no one else in his several hundred contacts that was granted any place among his direct dial list. He held his phone to his ear and listened to the trill as his phone dialed out, only to frown when he was answered immediately by Chloe's voicemail. 

"You know, moppet," Lucifer said as he tucked his phone back into his inner pocket. "A few days ago, Maze," he said, stressing the demon's name and making it clear he was talking more to her than he was to Trixie, "picked up a few of those prop knives from a local shop. This way she could teach you how to defend yourself against them without you getting hurt."

"Really?!" Trixie said with excitement as she turned to Mazikeen with wide eyes. "Are they curved like yours?" she asked as she bounced in her seat. "I can't wait for you to teach me that. This is so cool!"

"Take care of her, Maze," Lucifer instructed quietly as he stood from the bench seat. "Be back in a bit, moppet," he told Trixie, and ruffled her hair. 

"Lucifer," Trixie called to him, stopping him as she grabbed his hand. 

"Yes, love?" he replied as he met her gaze.

"If somebody hurt mommy . . . " Trixie paused as she looked down for a moment before returning her gaze to his, her eyes fierce. "Give them hell."

He chuckled with surprise as he nodded. "You are most definitely your mother's daughter," he told her with approval.

Lucifer turned to look at Mazikeen, waiting for her nod, before he turned and left. He went to the station first, cursing the late afternoon traffic as he weaved his way through the streets. She wasn't there though. No one had seen her for at least an hour, and he growled low as he left. It took him longer than he would have liked to get back across town to Chloe's house. 

He frowned as he pulled his car up into the driveway of her beachfront home. Her car was there in the driveway, but the door was ajar. He moved quickly from his car to hers, but she wasn't there, nor were her things. He closed the door of the car before he moved up to the house, the door unlocked, and walked in to find her on the couch. She didn't respond when he called her name, and he frowned as he moved closer. 

"Detective?" Lucifer called to her as he stepped up to the couch. "Chloe," he called her name a bit louder, and heard the tired groan that came from her. "Chloe," he called to her again as he moved to sit by her side. 

His eyes flared wide, a fierce red light flashing to fill his gaze as he stared down at her. He reached out gently to touch her face, turning her head slowly to see the rest of the bruise he had viewed the edges of when he'd first sat down. The growl that rumbled from low in his throat was dark and dangerous, the sound stirring the woman, and he heard her groan once more as her eyes fluttered open.

"Red?" she mumbled incoherently as her eyes fell closed once more. 

The bruising extended from the outer edge of her right eye, down to her jaw by her ear, and up to her temple. Her cheekbone had been cut, the skin surrounding the curve of her eye and cheek nearly blackened by the injury. The mark by her temple was scraped, the skin broken, and when he reached down gently to touch the injury, he felt the tiny bits of gravel and dirt in the wound. He moved closer without thought and heard a sharp hiss of pain from her as she pulled back, her eyes barely open.

"Hush now," he soothed her as he pulled her shirt up from where it was tucked into her pants. "Someone will pay dearly for this," he snarled low, his words one continuous growl, as he studied the dark bruises marring the left side of her ribcage and across her stomach. 

"Lucifer?" she slurred his name as she struggled to wake fully. "Trixie," she hissed her daughter's name, panic infusing her tone.

"She's safe with Maze," he told her, and shushed her gently when he probed along her side. "What the _bloody hell_ happened to you?" he growled.

"You know those cases I was looking into?" she said, a groan of pain sounding from her when Lucifer pressed down on a particularly tender spot.

"Nothing's broken," he assessed with some relief, as he lowered her shirt. "The cases you've been gathering from the unsolved files? The ones that you said can prove your theory, and tie everything together?" he asked, and helped her sit up slowly, wincing in sympathy at her grimace of pain. 

"Someone took offense to my poking around," she told him, and met his gaze. 

Lucifer frowned as he tipped his head, his gaze one of suspicion and disbelief. "Are you saying another cop did this?" he asked, and his eyes widened in rage when she nodded. "Who?"

"I don't know," Chloe said, her gaze steady, but wary. "They were careful to stay behind me. He kept his voice low enough that I couldn't make out who it belonged to." She grimaced as she breathed in and pressed her hand against her side as though it might stave off the pain. "Whoever he was, he blindsided me when I was going into evidence lockup. We were outside of the range of the cameras."

"This . . . _Happened_ . . . At the station?" he asked her slowly, his voice low and enraged, his eyes wild and promising the most painful retribution. 

"Yeah," she said and nodded, only to regret the decision seconds later when her nausea resurfaced. "I just wanted to lay down for a few minutes. How long was I out?"

"At least an hour," he told her, his voice somewhat more steady than before. "What's wrong?" he asked as he watched her.

"Nauseous," she told him with a heavy sigh. "Been that way since the attack. The guy said something about my dad," she said, her eyes meeting his with confusion and fear. "He said if I didn't stop looking into this, I'd end up like my father."

"Your father?" Lucifer asked with confusion. "Thought you said he'd been killed in a cross fire."

"That's what mom and I were told," she said, her eyes beginning to drift closed until Lucifer nudged her shoulder gently. "That's what the reports say, but if he was killed because he was looking into dirty cops, they could have easily doctored the official reports without anyone knowing."

"This . . . attack," he said slowly, struggling against the fire of his rage, "it's not going to stop you is it?"

"No," she denied with a shake of her head. "If anything, it's only making me want the truth more. Cops are supposed to be the ones stopping the bad guys, not protecting them. And if my dad was killed by a dirty cop, then I want his head," she said, her gaze fierce. 

"Yes," he agreed, his voice rough. "Well, I for one, want the head of whomever did this to you. And they _will_ answer to _me_ ," he intoned angrily, making it clear he would deal with her attacker himself, no holds barred. "Until we get this matter sorted, you and your spawn will stay with Maze and I at LUX. If they're willing to attack you inside a crowded police station, they'd be willing to attack you at home . . . You're not going to argue?" he asked when she nodded.

"No," Chloe said, and sighed. "The thought of Trixie getting hurt because of this terrifies me." She looked down at her shirt, and touched the injured side of her face. "Trixie's going to freak out. I was going to cover it up before I went to LUX," she said in reference to her face. "I just got tired."

"No need to cover it on my account," he told her, as he lifted his hand to turn her head toward him. "We should clean it though. Take me through it," he instructed her as he stood from the couch, and stepped into the kitchen. "Tell me everything that happened," he told her as he returned a moment later with a dampened washcloth to find her once again nearing sleep. 

He tapped her hand to rouse her, and asked her again about what had happened. Her voice was quiet at first, almost as though she was confused by it. The attack had been over and done with in just a few minutes. To say it had taken five minutes even was generous. Chloe took him through the event blow-by-blow, and looked up when he stopped her with a hand on her arm.

"Where did he hit you first? Exactly where?" he asked, and watched as her fingertips unconsciously went up to touch the edge of her cheekbone by her temple. "Looks like I get to keep you awake tonight," he said, and grinned salaciously. "All the wicked things we could do."

"You never give up, do you?" she said, and sighed with mock exasperation as she laughed. "And why exactly are you going to be keeping me awake?"

"Never, darling," he teased her with a chuckle. "And a hit that would leave a bruise like that, in the place that it's in. . . The unexpected nap, the continuing nausea, the difficulty you had in waking, and your continued struggle to stay conscious . . . Even your police training should tell you the answer to that," he said, and watched her nod slowly as she sighed. 

"Concussion," they said in unison, and Chloe sighed. 

"Lucifer . . . " He turned to her when she remained silent, and was surprised to see the sheen of tears in her gaze. "When I looked into Malcolm and found out how far back everything went . . . Dan knew about Malcolm, knew he was dirty, and . . . What if . . . ?"

"What if he was part of it?" he asked, finishing the question he knew she couldn't give voice to, and watched her nod. "I suppose we'll cross that bridge when we get to it."

"He was the one who shot Malcolm the first time," she revealed to him, and Lucifer felt his eyes widen. "He said he did it to protect me, but . . . What if there was more to it? I just keep thinking I'm going to find him among the files, and as much as I want the truth, I'm scared of what I'll find."

"You won't be dealing with this alone anymore," he told her, his tone making it clear he would accept no argument on the matter. "That I promise you. Go on," he said, and nodded toward the stair case. "Grab some clothes, and whatever you think your spawn will need."

"Thank you," she whispered sincerely, her voice breathless.

"You're welcome," he returned, and watched after her as she moved from the couch. Retrieving his phone from his pocket, he called Mazikeen. "Do not let the spawn out of your sight," he commanded when she answered the call. "Stay with her."

"She will be protected," Mazikeen returned, her voice steadfast and resolute. "Her mother?"

"I'm with Chloe now. She's hurt, but she's alright. They'll be staying with us for now," he told her.

"Well then, I'd better take her shopping," Mazikeen said, and chuckled. "Someone wants chocolate cake."

Lucifer chuckled, the simple desires of the child easing the edges of his rage. "Get her whatever she wants," he said softly. "Spare no expense."

"You spoil her," Mazikeen accused, teasing him.

"And you don't?" he returned. "If you remember nothing else, Maze, remember this: They are ours to protect."

**~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~**

The buzzing scream of the system horn was deafening, the sound vibrating as the latch on the door was released. He watched as the iron gate slid open and looked up as he met the guard's cold stare. 

"Let's go, Espinosa," the man said. "You've got a visitor."

He nodded as he rose from the bed, and followed the man out into the hall. The jeers and spiteful comments followed him down the hall, even a few cat calls, and Dan fisted his hands as he refrained from yelling back at the other inmates. It was still hard for him to reconcile the fact that these were his people now. He had committed the crime, and he had turned himself in to save Lucifer from taking the fall for a murder someone else committed, but that didn't mean it made any of this any easier.

"Chief," Dan said in surprise as he looked at the man waiting in the guarded visitor's room.

"Detective Espinosa," Police Chief Jacob Jameson greeted him. "Have a seat, Detective. Guard," he called out to the man standing in the corner. "Remove the cuffs."

A frown furrowed Dan's brows as the guard came over to him, and he held out his hands as the steel shackles were removed. There was something more going on here, and while he didn't quite know exactly what that was, he didn't like the feel of it. Something about this impromptu meeting felt off, and more than a bit shady. What exactly was going on here?

"Detective," the Chief spoke to him. "It took quite some doing on my part to explain everything to your Lieutenant. She's quite a feisty one, isn't she?" he asked, and chuckled at the look on Dan's face. "Oh, come now, Detective. We finally have all the proof we need to see that Detective Graham had been working on his own, and the evidence you were able to provide was more than worth the three months you had to spend in here to retain your cover, don't you think?"

"My cover?" Dan repeated, confused and more than a bit suspicious.

"Yes, of course," the man replied, as though he thought it should have been obvious. "We can finally put an end to this under cover assignment of yours and get you back where you belong. Your Lieutenant will have your badge and weapon waiting for you upon your return, and once cleared by the department psychologist," he told Dan as a guard appeared with the bag of Dan's belongings, "you can get back to work. Get dressed, Detective. There is a uniformed officer outside waiting to take you home, or wherever else you might wish to go. Every charge filed has been wiped clean, and this case of yours has finally been closed."

He stood from the table, and Dan stood with him. Taking the Chief's hand when it was offered, Dan was surprised by the strength of his grip, and frowned as he was pulled close for what appeared to be a one-armed hug.

"Now, you owe _me_ a favor, detective," the Chief whispered in his ear. "And rest assured, I do collect on my debts."

**~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~**

"Twenty questions?" Chloe asked him with humor. "That's your plan for keeping me awake?"

A wide smile spread across his face as he leered at her and moved closer. "There are so many other wickedly delightful things we could do if you prefer," he offered with a purr.

"You never quit," she said with a laugh, wincing slightly when her side protested. 

"Never," he agreed with a wink. "And let's be honest, you don't really want me to," he told her with an amused arch of his brow. 

She smiled at him as she blinked slowly, and groaned when he tapped the back of her hand with his.

"No falling asleep," he admonished her. "That's the whole point of this, to keep you awake. We could make it a bit more interesting," he offered.

"And how would we do that?" Chloe asked curiously. 

She turned toward him a bit more, lifting her right knee up onto the couch as she leaned her right side against the back of the furniture. Her left side ached along her ribs where she'd been kicked, and she leaned more of her weight on her right side as she tried to take the pressure off it. She forgot for a moment about the injury to her face and leaned her head against her loosely fisted hand, only to hiss and pull away quickly.

"Careful there, love," Lucifer chided gently, wincing as he studied her injury. "I should get you some ice for that," he said, and lifted his hand to touch her face. 

"I'm ok," she assured him with a smile. "I've taken worse hits in my rookie years," she told him, and watched him frown.

"Consider that question one, then," he told her, as he studied her. "Tell me about that."

The smile she offered him was hard to read, but he could see the pain behind her eyes. The story there was a dark one, he was certain of it, and watched as she found a comfortable way to lean her head in her hand.

"You know how I told you that I dealt with the whole Hot Tub High School thing until I became a detective?" she asked him, and he nodded, a grin bending his lips as he recalled the conversation. "Most of the guys had seen the movie, some of the women had, too," she told him as she looked down. "Most of it was just the name calling." She laughed a little bit, the sound self depreciating. "Whore Cop," she said, and met his gaze. "That one still lingers on. I'll hear it every now and then, not as much anymore, but it spiked quite a bit after Palmetto. During my academy days when we were sparring and taking fight training, my classmates, and even the instructors, were far rougher with me than with anyone else. I even got pushed down a flight of stairs once," she said, her gaze darkening as she relived the memory. 

"Surely there was someone who would have put a stop to it," he said angrily, and Chloe shook her head.

"When you're a female cop, you've got to work twice as hard as the men just to be seen as being half as good. When you're a female cop who starred in a movie with a rather famous nude scene . . . " She sighed. "You've got to take everything they dish out at you and make it look like it doesn't bother you. I worked harder than anyone else. Graduated at the top of my class, but no one saw the work. All they saw was . . . "  
   
Chloe fell silent as she dropped her gaze. She was angry, that much was clear, but there was something else there, too. The closer he studied her, the more he believed the emotion he was seeing from her to be shame. She was beautiful, fierce, brave, and smarter than all the rest. What could she possibly have to be ashamed about?

"Chloe?" Lucifer spoke her name with concern as he reached out to touch her arm.

Bullies were one thing that had never sat well with him. He had dedicated an entire section of Hell just to them because of that. There was another section of Hell, one that was almost Heavenly by comparison, reserved for those who had been condemned for taking their own lives because of bullies. Not many souls were there, only the ones who had truly never done anything wrong except ending their own lives, but even one was too many in his opinion.

"It's one thing to star in a movie," she told him, her voice softer as the old pain resurfaced. "We all had one central class we took for the book learning side of things, procedures, rules, and such." She was silent for a moment as she tried to push the emotions of the memory back, and met his gaze. "I came in one morning, just after the midpoint, and there was a crowd at the front of the room. I didn't know why, and at that time I really didn't care, but people started moving away . . . There was a life-sized cardboard cutout of me . . . naked . . . " She shook her head as she closed her eyes, and swore she heard him growl. "There was a rumor started then that I was getting such high marks because I was sleeping with all the instructors. What I thought was bad before got so much worse after that day."

"No one stopped it?" he asked her with a dangerous growl.

"That movie was considered soft-porn," she told him, as though it should explain everything. "No one cared what happened to me. I learned that one pretty quick. The other female cops could have bad days, moments of emotional outbursts, but not me. My female classmates were worse than the men. The guys just leered, or gave cat calls, but the women . . . they were cruel. Sparring was hell, but it taught me how to guard myself better than any of them could. I had my shoulder dislocated, a few fingers broken, even a cracked rib once," she told him, and sighed. "The instructors were . . . passive aggressive about it, at best," she told him. "The fight instructors would say I needed to toughen up, but if I was as rough with my opponent as they were with me, the instructors would put a stop to it immediately and go over excessive force lectures with the whole class. The other instructors would just make comments, but . . . I thought it would be better once I was working, and no longer just a student, but nothing changed. Everyone assumed since I had a nude scene that I used sex to get what I wanted, that I slept my way to where I was." 

She laughed humorlessly as she shook her head. "You know, my mom saw sex as just another form of currency. I know she loved my dad on some level, but if there was a part she had auditioned for that was better suited for someone else and she wanted it, she would sleep with whoever she needed to just to get the part. When I was Trixie's age, she took me to an audition with her, and then told me to wait outside the office while she "got the part". I could hear everything, and no matter what she thought, I wasn't stupid. She told me later that day to always remember that sex doesn't mean anything unless you get something out of it. It was because of that, and the movie, that I didn't date anyone, or . . . " She sighed heavily as she considered what she was about to reveal, and laughed at herself, the sound tired and worn. "I was a virgin when I met Dan."

"Dear Detective Douche was your first?" he asked her, blinking wide, his brows high in surprise. "That is dismal."

Chloe laughed softly, knowing what he was doing and thanking him silently for it. He wasn't ignoring anything she had said, or discounting what had happened to her. What he was doing, was breaking up the seriousness of their discussion with just a little bit of levity. She didn't think about what it meant when she reached out to place her hand on his knee, but smiled when he wrapped his hand around hers.

"Wait, does that . . ." He tipped his head as he looked at her with wonder, almost unable to believe what she was telling him. "Does that mean you haven't been with anyone else?" 

"No . . . I haven't," she said softly, and blinked at him slowly.

She was practically virginal, he thought with wonder as he studied her.

"Don't fall asleep on me," he told her when her eyes began to droop. 

"Your turn," she told him tiredly, as she blinked slowly. 

"Oh?" he asked, his voice teasing her as he grinned.

"You ask everyone else, so I'm curious," she prefaced her question with a shrug. "What is it that you desire most in this life?"

Lucifer sat in front of her silently, his brow furrowed as he considered her question. She was right, he did always ask it of everyone else. But desire was his gift, his power. She was the first person to actually turn the question back on him and ask what he wanted. He found, quite unexpectedly, that he didn't know the answer. When he had left Hell, his desire had been simple. All he had wanted then was to break the bonds of his father's chains, to be seen and judged on his own merits, not by someone else's standard, or expectations. Strangely though, he found that didn't matter to him anymore.

He didn't care what other people thought of him. If they saw him as a monster, that was on them, or his father, not on him. The furrow between his brows deepened as he considered that. He wasn't evil, he wasn't a monster, and part of him had wanted to prove that to the world, but as he looked up at Chloe, he realized that she knew who he was. She knew the man behind the angel, behind the devil, and that was enough for him. 

He had come so very close to losing her, to never having her near him again. Dying had been a new experience for him then, too, but that pain had paled in comparison to the very real fear of her being lost to him forever. The frown that pursed his lips and furrowed his brow smoothed out into wonder as he realized the answer to her question. 

Lucifer lifted his hand to her face, cupping the uninjured side of her jaw in his palm and smoothing the pad of his thumb over her delicate skin. He couldn't speak, the thoughts and emotions inside of him holding his voice hostage as he sat breathless in front of her. He leaned forward slowly, almost hesitantly, and brought his lips to hers. She gasped against his mouth, her hand coming up to grip his shoulder as her fingertips ghosted across the edge of his jaw.

The passion in his kiss was quiet, subdued. This moment wasn't about sex, it wasn't even about making out with her. This kiss was about showing her everything he felt, baring his soul to her, and praying she wouldn't turn him away. She whimpered as she pressed closer to him, and he groaned as he tasted her acceptance, her desire. He pulled back slowly, returning to sit across from her, close enough that the legs they each had bent up on the couch were touching. 

"You," he whispered hoarsely, shaken by his own revelation. "I never want to be without you, or young Beatrice," he answered honestly, and frowned at the sight of tears in her eyes. "Does that upset you?" he asked, confused by her reaction.

Chloe shook her head as she leaned forward, her arms wrapping around his shoulders as she held him close to her. As many times as she had found herself waking up from impossibly vivid dreams of being with him, of feeling him pleasure her, she had always held back. She had been afraid of what might happen if they were to give into their passion, terrified she would wake the next morning and find him gone. But this moment, his revelation, it was what she had been waiting for, wasn't it?

She pulled back just enough to stare into his eyes, her hands framing his face as she studied him. Emotions were still foreign to him in some ways, and she knew he was trying to understand what she was telling him. Sometimes, the most difficult answers to speak, are the ones easiest to answer through actions, she thought, and brought her lips to his. She poured everything she felt into the kiss, her love for him, her desire to have him with her, her need of him. He responded in kind, their embrace growing more passionate, until she pulled back suddenly with a sharp hiss.

"Chloe?" he called to her with worry as he studied her. He had been careful not to touch any of her injuries. "What's wrong?"

"Just give me a minute," she said, her voice a strained whisper as she sat rigidly with her eyes closed.

"Where does it hurt?" he asked softly, his anger over her attack tightening his voice once more.

"My back," she answered breathless. "Near my hip," she told him, her eyes still closed as she tried to focus past the pain. "It was a little sore before, but now it's really tight."

"Let me see," he commanded gently as he stood, and helped her to her feet. 

He turned her to stand with her back to him, and lifted the hem of her shirt from her pants. Moving carefully, he bid her to raise her arms, and removed the garment only to growl low at what was revealed. Whoever had attacked her had thrown her harder than she had said, maybe harder than she had even realized. He soothed her gently as his hands slipped around in front of her. 

The button and zipper of her trousers were easily undone, and he moved carefully as he drew the slacks down enough to see the full extension of her injury. The bruise that marred the left side of the small of her back just above her hip extended down over her hip, and down to her thigh. He felt her stiffen when he pressed gently into the darkest part of her bruising over her iliac crest. The muscles underneath the bruising had tightened in response to the injury , and he could feel the involuntary twitching as she tried to put weight on her left leg.

"Bloody hell," he cursed softly, and looked up at the sound of a low deadly snarl.

He realized then that he hadn't seen Mazikeen since he had returned with Chloe, his demon keeping Chloe's daughter entertained. This was the first time she was seeing the truth of her injuries, the pattern of bruising on her face and body startling. He watched as her nastier side revealed itself for just a moment before she quickly gained control of her temper and pushed it back.

"What happened?" Mazikeen asked tightly, anger coloring her words as she stepped closer to them, and met Chloe's startled gaze. 

"Someone at the station isn't too happy with my investigation," Chloe answered, and gasped softly, blinking quickly in surprise when she felt the warmth of Lucifer's fingertips tracing the outer edge of the bruise on her back and hip. His touch was feather soft, but instead of her feeling the pain of the injury, she felt aroused by the warmth of his hands on her skin. "My bag," she said to Mazikeen, nodding at the black case. "I've been keeping the files I've found recently with me. I didn't want them to disappear," she said, and nodded gratefully when the bartender brought the bag to her. "It's so much bigger than I thought," she confessed to them both, as Lucifer righted her clothing.

"Here," Lucifer said, trading her the bag she held for her shirt. 

Chloe slipped the blouse over her head as she watched Lucifer pull the files from her bag and spread them out across the table. There were at least fifty case files all together, and two files that she had began compiling specifically regarding the patterns of information from everything she had already been through. 

"I've got other files hidden away in the trunk of my car, and some that you've already stored here for me," Chloe told them, as she glanced at Lucifer. "I've been gathering as much information I can regarding the six officer files Olivia sent me, as well as any contacts they may have in common. But this . . . It's more than just the kidnappings and murder. What I've found in the past week," she said, reminding him if the time they'd been apart recently, seeing each other only when she had gathered her daughter after Mazikeen's trainings. "This goes further than what I thought. Malcolm's case made me think of it, and I pulled evidence log reports for five years back. Weapons - guns, knives, explosives, you name it, have gone missing from evidence lockup only to turn up again in connection to murders committed after they were checked in by us. Some have been sold and resold to drug dealers, arms dealers, gang members . . . " 

Chloe sighed heavily as she fell silent, and shook her head. "There's clear evidence of human trafficking, not just in relation to the children that were kidnapped, but with some of the more high profile people who had been trying to dig into the ring and stop it . . . I've found encrypted files that I've been working at decoding, and there are lists of people who have been abducted and sold. Cops have taken bribes to look the other way, or been paid to commit murder, and any number of other crimes."

"What do you want, Detective?" Lucifer asked her, noting curiously how Mazikeen seemed to be approving of the mortal woman.

"I want the truth. I want these monsters brought to justice. Their victims - and who knows how many there are - deserve answers. They deserve to be safe. I can make the pattern, I know I can," she insisted. "But everything I have right now is circumstantial. Unless I can find some hard evidence, they're going to keep getting away with it. And with everything I've found, there have to be at least twenty cops, if not more, who are involved with this."

"Do you have any names?" Mazikeen asked her, and Chloe shook her head. 

"That's just it," Chloe said as she handed the other woman the files with the information she had collected. "The way it's done, the way it's been brushed aside, or covered up . . . I have the files for the officers that I can show _suspicion_ of, but nothing that will tie them concretely to the crimes. The only common denominator is the previous Lieutenant."

"So why not ask him?" Mazikeen asked her as though it should be the obvious next step. 

"Because he happens to be the current Chief of Police, and he's also running this year for Police Commissioner. I can't even get near him with this without irrefutable proof. If approach him with this now, not only would he bury it all deeper, but he could easily take my badge." Chloe sat back with a sigh and covered her face with her hands as she shook her head. She dropped her hands as she looked first to Mazikeen, and then to Lucifer. "I don't know what to do here. If I stop investigating, then I'm saying what's happened is ok. But if I keep pushing forward, what happened today will only be the tip of the iceberg."

"Why not let Maze and I take a crack at it," Lucifer offered, his hard gaze moving to meet Mazikeen's eyes for brief moment before returning his attention to Chloe. "As a club owner, and bartender," he said as he made his offer to Chloe. "We see and hear things that you wouldn't. People tell both of us so many things they'd never tell you."

"Lucifer . . ." Chloe bit her lip as she considered his offer. "I don't want either of you getting hurt because of this."

Lucifer chuckled softly, an answering sound of amusement coming from Mazikeen, and Chloe frowned in confusion. The look in both their eyes promised danger, retribution for what had been done to her, and to the other victims. 

"I punish the guilty, Detective," he offered her with a wicked grin. "And as you've seen many times, people are more than willing to tell me their dirty little secrets. You've done your part, now let us do ours," he offered again, and smiled when she nodded. "The Devil, his demon, and the best homicide detective in the L.A.P.D. We make a right good team, don't you think?"

Chloe smiled as she nodded. "Just don't . . . Promise me you'll be safe," she demanded of him, her voice choked by emotion. "I can't . . . What happened with Malcolm - you . . . I can't lose you again," she confessed, and closed her eyes when Lucifer leaned close to press a kiss to her brow.

"I will always return to you," he promised her. "Now," he said after a moment. "We've got a few more hours before I can safely let you sleep. Take us through it," he requested, and nodded to the files.

She explained to them the start of it, revealing to Mazikeen the things Lucifer knew, but she didn't. The rapes Malcolm had committed had led her to another cop who had done the same, and one victim in common who had later been attacked by a known arms dealer. She had looked deeper into that victim and found a strange connection between the arms dealer who had attacked her, as well as Malcolm and the other officer who had done the same. The connections she had been able to make between the D.A.R.E officers and the kidnapped children, and the connection between her kidnapping in particular, and the ties to Officer Cassidy and Hagar Richardson. 

"There was a purchase Officer Cassidy made on PayPal," she told them, and shook her head. "It was such a . . . I felt stupid for looking at it at first, but I couldn't leave it alone. He bought a bottle of wine through PayPal from a private store. But that store front belonged to Malcolm, and if there's one thing I know about Malcolm it's that he didn't drink wine, and he certainly wouldn't have had a five thousand dollar bottle of it sitting around. Not only that, but the bottle he sold runs about eight dollars from any store. There was a similar purchase Derek Bushonne - the arms dealer made from the other cop - Cedric Mullone. It didn't make sense."

"And so you pushed forward," Lucifer said, nodding his approval of Chloe's investigation. 

"I did," she nodded. "The payments came in exactly one week before the cops attacked that woman." She looked down as she struggled to reveal the next part. "Malcolm sold a picture of a car for fifty thousand dollars. Just a picture. Three weeks later, two drug dealers were found murdered, and the case was investigated and closed by him." She shook her head as her anger over it surfaced. "He investigated the murder he committed and blamed it on someone else!"

Lucifer watched Chloe as she tried to reign in her temper. He knew she hated it when people got away with the wrongs they'd done, but she hated it even more when a crime was blamed on the wrong person. It didn't matter to her if the person blamed was guilty of something else, she wanted the person responsible for the crime to be brought to justice for it. She was a lot like them, punishing the guilty. 

"Mommy?" Trixie's frightened voice drew his attention, and he looked over to see the child standing wide-eyed in the entryway.

"Come here, Trix," Chloe called out softly, and bit her lip to hide the grimace as she lifted the girl up to sit on her lap.

"You got hurt," the child said, her voice trembling.

"I'm ok," she promised the girl. "You have that dream again?" she asked, and Lucifer frowned as he watched the child nod. 

Lucifer met the girl's eyes when Chloe nodded to him, and he sighed as Trixie climbed over her mother to get to him. Giving a soft sound of amusement, he accepted the child's weight against his left side when she climbed over his lap and tucked herself under his arm. He rubbed her arm as he bent down to kiss the top of her head. Part of him had expected her to speak, or ask him to sing, but he was surprised when he found her asleep less than a minute later.

"What dream?" he asked Chloe as he turned his attention to her with a curious frown.

"She's been having nightmares about that night," Chloe told them both. "The things Malcolm said to her. The way he taunted her while he had her. And she uh . . . " Chloe fell silent as she took in a steadying breath. " She didn't tell me until a few nights ago, but she had been close enough to see you die," she told Lucifer. "You still have to explain that to me," she demanded of him. "People don't just die and get better," she told him with a shake of her head.

"You know what I'll answer," he told her, reminding her of all the other times she had tried to make sense of the things she couldn't explain about him. "Come here," he bid of her, and wrapped his arm around her when she curled against his side. "Go to sleep now," he told her, and kissed her temple. "I'm here with you both, and I'm not going anywhere."

He tipped his head, resting his cheek against Chloe's hair, as he sang softly until the detective fell asleep. His eyes moved across the low table, glancing over the pictures and collected information, before his gaze rose to meet Mazikeen's. As much as his attention and care for the two humans in his arms had seemed to upset her in the beginning, she seemed more understanding of it now. She was more willing to work with Chloe, to protect both her and her daughter as she trained the young girl to fight, and had offered to spar with the detective. He narrowed his gaze on her, waiting to speak until he was certain Chloe was fast asleep.

"What changed, Maze?" he asked, knowing she would understand his unspoken meaning.

She shook her head. "I don't know exactly," she said after a long moment. "Trixie started coming down to see me as much as she came to see you," she told him, as she thought over everything. "Being with Amenadiel . . . I couldn't kill him. I had the chance a few times, but I couldn't. And then working with Chloe, learning why she does this job, learning how much like us she is in her desire to punish the guilty, having her protect me when I'm the immortal, learning that Trixie had been taken by that monster . . . Something just . . . changed," she said, sounding truly confused by it all. 

Lucifer smiled as he nodded. He didn't understand it all himself, either, but he knew exactly what Mazikeen meant. He frowned as he looked over at the clock, feeling the air shift around him, and watched as the second hand slowed down until it was barely able to track the passing of time.

"You've been gone awhile," Lucifer said, as he waited for his brother to speak. 

"Father sent me with a message," Amenadiel said as he stepped further into the penthouse, and arched an amused brow at his brother. 

"Oh?" Lucifer asked as he met his brother's gaze. "What does he want this time? I'm still hunting mum, can't quite go back to Hell without her."

"That's what his message was about," his brother told him, the expression on his face unreadable. "He didn't agree to your terms."

"What?" Lucifer asked, his brows furrowed deeply in confusion. "But he brought me back."

"He answered the prayer of another, Luci. An innocent soul, pure and untouched by sin, prayed for you. They didn't just pray for Lucifer Morningstar, they prayed for the Devil, their friend. The person who makes them feel better," he said, repeating lines of the prayer his Father had told him about.

"Who would . . . Beatrice," he whispered, as he turned his eyes down to the sleeping child tucked against his side. "She prayed for me?" he asked in wonder and disbelief as he met his brother's gaze.

"She cried for you," he answered with a shallow nod. "Father said she promised to give him anything he wanted, if he would just give you back to her and her mother. Father's answer was clear, but he waited to make certain you were deserving of her prayer," Amenadiel told him. "It seems that Trixie and Chloe have been able to teach you something that Father never could - compassion and love for mankind."

"He was the one who created that lie, that I lacked love and compassion. I was never the one who hated the humans, that was always Mikey's row. All I ever wanted was the free will he gave them," he denied, a hateful exhalation sounding from him as he shook his head. "And what about Hell and all those pesky souls roaming about?" Lucifer asked, scoffing at the idea that his Father would do anything so benevolent for him.

Amenadiel gave a dismissive laugh as he looked down and shook his head. "That he's leaving up to me, and this," he said as he tossed a coin to Lucifer. "If you want back in, He won't stop you, but on the same note, if you die again for the woman you love, you have a way to come back."

"The woman I what?" Lucifer asked, his expression disbelieving.

"His words," Amenadiel chuckled, and glanced at the two human females tucked against either side of Lucifer. "Take it up with Him." 

Lucifer watched as Amenadiel tossed another coin to Mazikeen. "Maze," Amenadiel said as he nodded to the demon. "Save that for when you need it," he told her, and she frowned in confusion. "It may have been an errant thought, but tell me you don't actually want to do it."

"You heard that?" she asked him. "I thought you were sleeping."

"I know," he replied with a teasing grin.

"What?" Lucifer asked as he looked between the pair. "Maze?"

"After everything with Malcolm, and then Chloe's fear of her being kidnapped again," she said as she looked at the two mortals. "I thought about bringing a hell hound to protect Trixie. One that would be hers alone, just here to protect her," she said, and Lucifer's eyes widened as he nodded. 

"Bring two," he instructed her. "I want one for Chloe."

Mazikeen smiled slowly, before she began to laugh. "Two humans guarded by hell hounds," she laughed as she shook her head. "And if I know Trixie, she will spoil them rotten."

Lucifer chuckled as he nodded his agreement. He watched as his brother disappeared a moment later with Mazikeen in his arms. Things were changing, he thought, and kissed the top of Trixie's head, and then Chloe's before he tipped his head back to rest against the couch behind him. If all of this was somehow part of his father's plan, Lucifer wondered exactly what the man was thinking. To put him through this, to make Chloe and Trixie suffer the way they had, it was all just another collection of cruel manipulations, wasn't it? 

"Do you even care about them?" he asked his father as he looked toward the Heavens. "Does the pain they go through thrill you in some manner? You rip their lives apart, and for what?" he shook his head as he carefully eased himself away from the sleeping humans. "You vilified me," he growled as he stepped out onto the balcony, "but _you_ are the one torturing the innocents down here, and for what? Do you get some kind of sick pleasure out of it? At least I punish the guilty," he said, his rage coming to the fore. "You don't even make a distinction. You just punish and torture whoever you damn well please, sod the consequences. I'm not the evil one," he declared, and turned away from the cloud covered night.

He lifted Chloe into his arms, carrying her quietly into his private bedroom and laying her down on the pillows before he returned for her daughter. Gathering Trixie into his arms, he shushed her when she stirred, and felt her small arms wrap around his neck. His smile was unsteady when he heard her whisper his name as she dreamed, begging him not to leave her, not to die. He felt her stir gently, and looked down to see her eyes were barely open, the child in his arms not truly awake.

"Teddy," she mumbled softly, and he sighed with amusement as he looked back to the couch behind him. 

Sure enough, there was that bloody teddy bear. "He's right here," Lucifer said as he tucked the bear against her side, and watched her wrap the bear in her arm as she held onto him tightly.

He kissed her cheek and promised her he was there with her as he rubbed her back and carried her with him into his room. He sighed when he realized he wouldn't be getting Trixie loose of him anytime soon, and toed out of his shoes before moving to lie down with the child in between himself and Chloe. He kissed the girl's hair as he reached for the blankets, covering the three of them as he settled down for the night. These two humans, without even trying they had gotten under his skin and were too much a part of him now for him to ever let them go. They were his to protect, and he challenged anyone to try to harm them.


	15. Chapter 14 "Meeting the Hellhounds"

AN: Lucifer and all recognizable characters belong to Jerry Bruckheimer and FOX television. Set post 'Take Me Back to Hell'. (Written prior to the start of season 2.)

 

Summary: There is only one thing that can make an immortal vulnerable, only one thing that can hurt an angel aside from another angel - their mate. It was only a rumor, a baseless myth, something Amenadiel had never believed in, until it happened to Lucifer.

**Memento Mori**

Chapter 14

**"Meeting the Hellhounds"**

by WhisperingWolf

Her steps were slow, the grass beneath her feet muffling the sound of her movements as she walked across the plot of land. It didn't take her long to move to the familiar headstone in the distance, the smooth grey marble standing up out of the ground. Olivia lifted her hand to rest it on top of the carved stone, tracing the curve of the arc before she bent down to kneel in front of the stone epitaph. Pushing her hair out of her face, she traced her fingertips over the flowing cursive script that spelled out her ex-husband's name.

"Sophia's case is getting opened again," she told him, speaking to the grave as though the man lying beneath the ground could hear her. "Do you remember the last time we saw each other?" she asked with a tired sigh. "You told me that we would have answers," she reminded him, and shook her head. "That was so long ago now. You looked so haunted, and you kept telling me you were sorry, as if her kidnapping was your fault. I was mad that day, we both were, but it wasn't your fault. It was never your fault."

She didn't feel the eyes watching her, the man standing far behind her, underneath the willow tree. His blue eyes were lined with green, the color that of the ocean, or meadows. Pale gold hair was spun through with strings of copper red. The tree shifted above him, the wind blowing through the boughs of the willow and stirring the long swaying branches of the weeping tree until they danced like so many ribbons. Moonlight shone upon his pale skin, glinting off the brilliant sun gold wings stretched out behind him. 

Olivia Monroe, Gabriel thought as he studied the human woman kneeling at her husband's grave. Unlike his brothers, he understood this aspect of the human condition. They would do anything to remain connected with those they lost, even going so far as to keep jars of their ashes, or visiting their burial sites. How many times had he tried to reach out, hoping that somehow his brother would hear him? How many instruments had he influenced humans to create over the centuries, just in the hope that he might hear the sound of the music his brother used to play?

He had hidden his presence the first time he went to see Lucifer, the memory still able to bring him some measure of comfort. Amusement lightened his eyes as he let memory flow through his mind while he kept his vigil over the woman. He hadn't been sure what to expect, but the sound of Lucifer at the piano, the silent notes created in between the chords called to him, and he realized that there was still just a little bit of Samael left. 

Once his brother had fallen, Lucifer had run as far and as fast as he could from who he had been. He had turned off every single emotion he had, and for a long time, he had silenced his music as well. Gabriel didn't know when Lucifer had returned to his gift for music, but he was thankful for it. His sharp gaze moved across the cemetery when Olivia appeared to slump against the stone, and he realized she had fallen asleep.

Stepping out of the shadow of the trees as he willed his wings to be unseen, he moved toward the mortal woman and crouched down next to her. Her face was pale, dark circles under her eyes telling him of how many nights she had sat awake since learning that Chloe had her daughter's case among her files. Sophia's case was the key, but more than that, he was the one who knew that the girl was still alive. And unlike the other victims, Sophia had never forgotten her mother, she had simply learned how to play along to make her captors think she had. Evangeline hadn't been the one to include Sophia's file into the box, she hadn't even known where Derek had hidden it, but he had. 

"It's alright," he soothed Olivia when she stirred. "I'm Lucifer's brother, and a friend of Chloe's," he told her, offering the introduction and watching her calm. "They were concerned about you."

"You've been following me?" Olivia asked tiredly, hanging onto his arm when he helped her to stand.

"Only tonight," he assured her, and walked with her back to her car. "Will you be alright to drive?" he asked as he watched her unlock the door. 

"Yes, thank you," Olivia said quietly. "I didn't know Lucifer had a brother," she said curiously as she turned back to him. 

"He's got a few of us. Big family," he said with a shrug, and grinned. 

"You look familiar," Olivia told him, and Gabriel nodded slowly.

"We met a long time ago," he told her, and nodded to her car. "I can drive, if you'd like," he offered, and watched her shake her head before she opened the door.

"I'm ok," she denied him as she slipped behind the wheel. "But thank you."

He stood silently, watching as she pulled the door closed before starting the engine. He nodded when she waved to him, and stared after her as she drove away. Most mortals never remembered seeing an angel, or if they did, they were driven almost insane by the memory. A smile toyed at the corners of his mouth as he considered the possibility that the woman had most likely thought the encounter to be a dream. 

The night her daughter had been brought home from the hospital, she had sat with Sophia in her nursery, rocking her through the night. Olivia had prayed to him, telling him of a poem she had read defining the angel Gabriel as being the protector of children. During her prayer, she had asked him to always look out for her Sophia, to keep the girl safe. He had appeared to her that night, heavenly light surrounding him in a soft glow. She had been sleeping when he had come to her, touching her daughter's head, and marking her with his angelic grace.

He still remembered the way Olivia had stared at him that night, as though she couldn't quite believe what she was seeing. It had only been a few years later that he had felt Sophia's terror like a punch to his chest. He had been forbidden from rescuing her then, and had done the only thing he could. Using the link between himself and the angelic grace he had marked the child with, he had kept her spirit strong, helping her to fight against the reprogramming her kidnappers tried to do. 

Gabriel had gone to Sophia in her dreams, told her about her mother, and made certain to keep her memories of who she truly was alive and strong. He had changed the papers, making the humans who bought her be a very rich and kind family, who simply had not been able to conceive a child of their own. Michael and even his father had been angered by his interference, but he wouldn't back down, he refused to apologize, and he had made it clear that he would not abandon the child. He may not have been able to pull her out and take her back to her mother, but he had done what he could to keep her protected.

"I will not abandon them as you have," Gabriel spoke aloud as he turned his head up and stared at the night sky. "You told us all that the humans were your greatest creation. When you did you stop caring what happened to them? When did their suffering become acceptable?"

**~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~**

He wasn't sure what kind of an answer he had been expecting, but the one he got was nothing that he ever could have anticipated. It had all been part of the same conversation, an exchange of information followed by one question at the end. There was a part of him that had hoped his brother had lied, another part that hoped his other brother had found a way to shield himself, but the truth revealed had been so far from either that he couldn't reconcile it.

_The room was white, the kind of bright white that made it blend in and look invisible. It was almost annoying, how much his father loved the grandeur of a color that generally represented sterility._

_"Amenadiel," his father called to him, and he returned his attention to Him. "Your thoughts are drifting. I didn't simply call you to tell you of the child's wish," He said, and Amenadiel frowned in silent question. "You've had sexual relations with a demon," He began, and Amenadiel stood silent as he sighed in his thoughts. "You brought an evil human soul back from the dead to do your bidding. You actually tried to have your brother killed, of all things," He recounted as though the very idea of it was amusing somehow. "Because of these things, and others, you will be a . . . go-between, of sorts."_

_"A . . . what?" Amenadiel asked, and listened to his father sigh._

_"You will still come to me when I call on you, and assist in Heavenly matters when needed, but you will assist Lucifer in punishing the evil souls. You will be both here, and there. Should he choose to stay on Earth for now, then you will rule Hell in his absence. I don't care what you do with it as long as you keep the souls and demons contained," He said, his tone annoyed as though the entire matter was inconveniencing Him somehow._

_"Did you know?" Amenadiel asked him, and watched his father turn to face him. "About Michael, that the rebellion - the war - wasn't Lucifer's doing?"_

_"Of course I knew," He dismissed, and Amenadiel growled as his wings flared out in anger._

"Why _would you let something like that happen?" Amenadiel snarled. "_ Everyone _turned against him and it was nothing but a lie! You always said he was your favorite!"_

_"And he was - is," his father said with a dismissive shrug. "Samael was stronger than any of you, strong enough to nearly be my equal," he said casually. "But he was too gentle, too . . . curious. He didn't even want to create Hell. I had to make Raphael and Michael hold him in chains just to direct his energy where it was meant to go. He was always meant to be the Devil, but he wouldn't accept it. He would rather have spent his time creating music. You have no idea how many times I had to pull him back from the creation on Earth he favored. You didn't really believe the rainforests were Michael's creation do you?" He scoffed._

_Amenadiel shook his head as he stared at his father in horror and disbelief. Lucifer had been banished from Heaven, disowned by his family, thrown into Hell and forced to become a torturer. His brother had learned to accept the duplicitous affection from demons because true belonging and affections was something he would never again feel from his own family._

_"Did Gabriel know the truth?" he found himself asking._

_"You don't really think I wouldn't have seen the ending of that possibility, do you?" his father dismissed with a sarcastic sneer. "Gabriel and Samael were close enough that they created their own language to speak with each other. I may know everything that happens, but even I couldn't decipher their language. Had Gabriel known the truth, he would have stood with, and fought for his brother. That wasn't the purpose I created him."_

_Amenadiel felt as though the proverbial rug had been pulled out from beneath him. All the wars that had been fought over the eons. All the times Michael had rallied them, telling them all that Lucifer was trying to overthrow Heaven. All the lies. His father was supposed to be the one he could trust, the one to uphold the truth, and instead He had been the instigator of the biggest lie history had ever known._

_"Go back to your bother, tell him about the child's wish," his father said, and Amenadiel felt the air around him change as his father tossed him from the room with a flick of his wrist._

"What's wrong with you?" Mazikeen asked as she stepped around the couch with a bottle of whiskey and two glasses in her hand.

He shook his head silently, denying her an explanation for the simple reason that he didn't know what to say. Revealing what his father had told him wouldn't change anything. The only thing it really did was make him see his brother in a new light. All the rage his brother held for them, it was more than warranted, wasn't it? How many times had Lucifer been betrayed by those he had been meant to trust?

"Do you think they'll scare Trixie?" he asked Mazikeen as he stared at the two giant black hellhounds that were wandering the penthouse. "I've seen smaller ponies."

Mazikeen chuckled. "So have I, but I also know Trixie. Mark my words, that girl will ride hers like a horse, and play with her like a kitten. She's fearless, and full of adventure."

"And Shadow?" he asked, as he watched the hellhound in question step out toward the balcony.

Mazikeen studied the beast with amusement. "As if there were any question," she said, and sipped at her whiskey.

**~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~**

Sunlight filtered in through the open balcony doors, rays of delicate gold and white light falling gently across the bed. Chloe stirred slowly, blinking up at the ceiling as she breathed in deeply, only to instantly regret the decision. She had forgotten about her injuries until that moment, but the expansion of her ribs had brought it all back with a vengeance. Turning her head, a slow smile spread across her face to see Lucifer lying next to her in the bed, her daughter sprawled across his chest. For a man who had told her time and again that he didn't like children, he had seemed to take an instant liking to Trixie. 

It had never escaped her notice how much better of a relationship her daughter had with Lucifer than she had with her own father. In the beginning, the truth of it gave her caution, making her question why the relationship had developed, but over time she had found herself grateful for it. Was Trixie changing Lucifer, or was Lucifer giving her daughter the strength and confidence she needed to get past the pain of her absent father? Whatever the answer was, Chloe decided that she didn't care. She felt honored that it was simply there at all, and treasured what her daughter had found - what she herself had found. 

Turning to lie on her right side, Chloe lifted her arm above the pillow, her fingers finding their way into Lucifer's hair as she petted and toyed with his dark locks. There had been so many times, especially in the first few cases they worked together, that she had discounted him as being the irresponsible playboy. But he had grown over their time together, letting her past the devilishly handsome club owner he let the world see, and revealed to her the gentle and caring man underneath. 

He was wicked, sexually charged, able to make any situation about himself, but the more she got to know him, the more she got to see his confusion over emotions he was only barely beginning to understand. Lucifer was discovering his heart, discovering himself, and of all the people he knew and came into contact with, he had decided to take that journey with her and her daughter. She blinked quickly, startling slightly when she noticed his eyes were open, the man in question watching her with quiet curiosity. 

"Good morning, darling," he spoke to her softly, keeping his voice low in deference to the child sleeping on top of him.

"Good morning, Lucifer," she returned, and felt lost in his dark gaze. 

She wanted to kiss him. Her lips tingled with the desire to do so, every cell in her body humming with the closeness of him. It would be so easy to dip her head down, to kiss him, but she didn't dare do that now. Not while her daughter was in the bed with them. As much as she knew he could be the gentleman and bestow only a chaste kiss upon her if he wanted to, she wasn't so sure she would have the same restraint. 

His chuckle drew her attention and she arched a brow in silent question. Her lips parted in a silent gasp when he slipped his hand behind the curtain of her hair to bring her down for a kiss. Her body tightened in response, her heart racing madly in her chest, as a warm fire built low in her belly. He pulled back a moment later, breaking the kiss only seconds after it had begun, and she met his gaze with wonder and affection.

He narrowed his eyes on her as his gaze scanned over her face, and she watched as his lips pursed in displeasure. Anger flashed in his eyes before he quickly hid it away, and she ducked her head, blushing softly when he tucked her hair behind her ear. It was so easy to deflect his teasing when they were working on a case, or when he said something outrageous, but these quiet intimate moments had the power to shake her to her core. 

"It seems the rest you got only made the bruising worse, I'm afraid," he told her as he gently tipped her head with a finger beneath her chin. "I think I've seen world class boxers come out of the ring looking better than you do right now," he told her honestly, his brow arching and falling in an almost shrug. "How do you feel?"

"Stiff mostly," Chloe told him, and closed her eyes. "It still hurts to breathe too deeply," she confessed, and sighed softly. 

"You're still tired, aren't you?" he asked, and she nodded slowly. "The attack, or something else?" he asked as he studied her. "You're not normally someone to be surprised like that."

"I haven't been sleeping, at least not well," she told him quietly. "The few pieces I'm able to connect during the day, only seem fuel all the connections my mind makes at night. As soon as I fall asleep, everything that I wasn't seeing before comes to me, and then I have to go back to the files."

"Is that all it is?" he asked her as he tipped his head, and she felt his gaze pierce her soul. 

"I've been back at work for a week now," she said, and drew in a slow breath. "And every day feels less safe than the day before," she confessed, and watched him nod.

"I told you that you wouldn't be dealing with this alone anymore, and I meant it," he reminded her. "When you go into the station, I'll be there with you," he promised her, and lifted his eyes to stare at something behind her. "Someone's come to say hello," he told her, and nodded to something behind her.

"What?" she asked with a frown as she turned.

The low whine that sounded answered her question, and she gave a breathy laugh as she moved her hand out to greet the animal. A dog? She didn't remember Lucifer ever having any kind of pets, but here she was, being greeted by an impossibly large black dog that looked to be something of a mix between a Newfoundland, a Borzoi, and a German Shepherd. Whatever the actual breed was, the dog looked to be built for power, hunting, and speed. Perhaps she was just imagining things, she thought as she studied the animal, but for the briefest of seconds, she thought she saw his eyes glow red.

"Hi puppy," she greeted, and smiled as the beast licked her hand.

"His name is Hunter," Lucifer introduced. "He's here for you," he told her as Chloe petted the animal, the beast turning his head into her hand, and she laughed softly as she scratched his ears.

"You got me a dog?" she asked with amused disbelief, turning her head back to glance at Lucifer, before she returned her attention to the animal.

"Technically," he told her with amusement as he propped himself up on his elbows. "They're hellhounds," he said, and Chloe watched as another dog nearly identical to the one she was petting stepped into the room.

"Puppies!" Trixie gasped, and Chloe turned back to see her daughter blinking her eyes wide as she sat up in the bed between them. 

"Beatrice, this is Hunter," Lucifer introduced the young girl to the hellhound standing next to Chloe's side of the bed. "He is your mother's, but I'm certain you two will get along famously as well," he told her with a smile. "And this beautiful girl," he said as another hellhound nearly identical to Hunter trotted over to his side of the bed, "is Shadow. Shadow is for you," he told her, and watched her eyes widen as a bright smile split her face.

"Thank you, Lucifer!" Trixie squealed, and hugged him tightly about his neck.

"You're welcome, Beatrice," he answered with a chuckle at her enthusiasm. "Why don't you take Shadow out into the main room, and see if you can find Maze. Bet she's got a few treats you could give her."

He chuckled when the girl climbed over him to get out of the bed, and watched as she hugged Shadow, before jogging over to greet Hunter. Mazikeen was right, he thought as he watched Shadow and Hunter wag their tails, Trixie was going to spoil them rotten. A breathy laugh sounded from him as he watched Shadow shake her head when the young girl climbed up onto her back. Hellhounds were the size of small horses, and that particular hellhound didn't seem to mind being used as one. 

"I don't know whether I've just gained two dogs, or lost my daughter to you," Chloe teased him, as Lucifer sat up against the pillows.

"Hellhounds," he corrected with a chuckle. "I had Maze bring them while you slept," he told her, and wrapped his arm around her when she leaned against his side.

"Aren't hellhounds supposed to be scary?" Chloe teased him. "They're just a couple of big teddy bears," she said, and looked to Lucifer when he laughed.

"I'm the devil," he reminded her with a laugh. "And you've never had the sense to be afraid of me."

"Why would I be afraid of you?" she asked him, and watched as he scoffed with bemusement.

"Why indeed," he teased in return, as Chloe patted the bed beside her. "He is rather large, you know," he pointed out to her when Hunter climbed up onto the bed at her urging. 

"He's sweet," Chloe said, and lifted her hands to scratch behind his jaws, only to laugh when Hunter groaned low and flopped over on his side in pleasure at her attentions.

"You, my dear detective, have the rather alarming ability to take a most fearsome beast and make him bend to your will," he told her with disbelief as he watched the hellhound nuzzle against her palm.

"I'd love to take him into the station with me," she mused, and bit her lip as she chuckled. "I'm pretty sure he would scare everyone though."

"Let them be scared," Lucifer said, his tone holding a dark edge, and Chloe turned to meet his gaze. "They let this happen to you," he reminded her as he gently touched the edge of the bruise on her jaw. "Do you work today?" he asked, and Chloe shook her head.

"No," Chloe said, and looked down. "But I do need to talk to Olivia about everything that's going on," she told him, and frowned.

"What's held you back this long?" Lucifer asked, and rolled his eyes when Hunter crawled up to lie between them, the huge beast laying his head on Chloe's lap.

"The deeper I get into this," she told him with a confused frown, "the more I get the feeling that she's unintentionally telling them everything. I don't think she's involved in this willingly," Chloe told him when saw his frown. 

"You're thinking her office is bugged?" he asked, and watched her nod slowly.

"I didn't tell you," Chloe told him, her brows drawn together as her tongue peeked out to wet her lips. "Olivia's daughter was kidnapped almost ten years ago. Her husband - ex-husband," she corrected herself. "Was one of the people working with Evangeline. He was close," she said with wide eyes. "Really close to finding Sophia, but he was killed before he could. There's this . . . _feeling_ . . . I know that if I can find her, then I can tie everything together, and I can get bring this whole thing down."

Lucifer stared at her silently as he took in what she had revealed. "You're thinking they're watching her because she's looking, too," he said slowly, and Chloe nodded.

"If Trixie were kidnapped, there would be nothing that could stop me from searching for her. Nothing," she said, and shook her head. "I can't imagine what she's going through right now. To lose her daughter almost a decade ago, and then to lose her ex almost three years ago, only for everything to be re-opened again."

"What about having her come here?" Lucifer offered. "Test the waters, and see what she might know as well, while keeping what you tell her off the record. This way, no one would be listening in."

"That's not a bad idea," Chloe agreed slowly, a smile turning her lips up as she nodded. "Thank you," she said, and blushed when he kissed her temple.

"You're welcome," he returned. 

"I'm supposed to meet with Evangeline's replacement today. From what he told me on the phone, he had been working with her for a few weeks now. She told him she had found a new connection, but died before she could tell him what that was," Chloe said, and smoothed her hand over Hunter's fur, watching as his tall ears swiveled back and forth like little satellites. "He found some things yesterday that she had hidden in her office with my name on it."

"What do you know about this bloke?" Lucifer asked her. "Do you trust him?"

"I trust him because you do," she told him with a shrug. "He's your brother."

"My brother?" he asked her, and Chloe smiled.

"Gabriel."

**~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~**

Blue eyes moved slowly over the collection of humans with boredom and annoyance. Free of her confinement in Hell, she was now strapped with the unwanted company of a demon, and one of the few children she could barely tolerate. Lucifer may have taken after her in his strength of will, and character, but Michael was every bit her husband with just a little bit of herself thrown in. Where Lucifer was fascinated by the humans, she and Michael detested them. Where she and Lucifer were gifted at pulling out a person's desire, only she and Michael were gifted at manipulation to the extent that they could make a person do something they would never have done otherwise. But where Michael stood alone, was in his father's ability to make everyone do his bidding through deception and weave a betrayal so elegantly that no one was the wiser even after it was done.

She was as powerful as her ex-husband was, if not more so, but she also knew that the strongest among her children was Lucifer. He had defeated her the first time, and locked her in Hell with the help of his father and brothers. Lucifer had once been her favorite, but now she owed him so very much for her confinement. If only Lucifer had the sense to see how pointless and worthless these creations of her husband's were, then maybe she could reach him. Turning her head to stare at the demon behind her, Charlotte arched a single brow and waited for the woman to step forward.

"I have brought them for you, my queen," Lilith said, and Charlotte rolled her eyes in annoyance as she sighed.

"They are a collection of random people, Lilith," she spoke to the demon as though she were a child. "There are no relations that tie them together. They will worship me, of course, but this is not what I asked for. Bring me a bonded pair."

"Married ones?" Lilith asked, and was flung across the room for her efforts.

"She may have created the other demons," Charlotte told Michael as he stepped up to her, "but each one of them is far smarter than she is."

"Her lack of intelligence made her easy to control," Michael replied dismissively. 

"Have you found your brother like I asked?" she asked him as she stepped around one of the men.

He was shorter than she was, with a stocky build. There was strength in him, the bulge of his muscles under his clothing making that apparent. She leaned close as she stood behind him, whispering in his ear, and watched as he turned his head to the woman beside him. Moving to each other human in turn, without going near the woman she had turned the man's attention toward, she whispered to each of them before standing back. 

Charlotte stared at the woman that she had left standing on her own, and pulled back her influence. She watched with delight as the woman gasped, her mind clearing of her mesmerizing fog, and smiled when she began looking around her with fear. Closing her eyes, Charlotte rejoiced in the woman's terror and breathed in deeply of the desire of the souls around her.

"Take her," she commanded the other humans. "She is my gift to you."

A smile twisted her lips as she listened to the woman scream, and watched as the other humans descended upon her. The distinct sound of clothing being torn away was heard, even as the humans crowded around the woman and hid her from view. The mixed scents of lust and fear filled the air, hate and a will for violence brought a briny tang to the sweetness of it all. She heard the woman sob and beg, screaming for help, only to be silenced as she was gagged with something. The crowd moved and flowed around her, punishing the woman in so many varied ways before finally killing her.

She waited for the humans to pull back, delighting in their destruction of the woman, before she withdrew her influence from them all. The horror that overcame them at their own actions was euphoric, an aphrodisiac that she never grew tired of. Scanning their faces, she looked for the one person who seemed the least troubled, and moved around the room, whispering to each person except the one who had seemed to enjoy it the most.

"He was the one to make you do what you did," she told the humans under her influence, and listened to their angry voices rise. "Make him suffer as she did."

"Lucifer is being guarded," Michael said from behind her, uncaring as he watched the humans tear each other apart.

"Guarded how?" Charlotte asked, as she took pride and delight from the willful destruction of the lives in front of her.

"Mazikeen is with him, as is Amenadiel," Michael told her with a sigh. "It will not be easy to get to him."

"You assured me Mazikeen was dead," she growled low as she turned to face her son, anger in her voice.

"I thought she was. The damage we inflicted on her was impossible to survive. Even the human she had tortured took his pleasure in part of it -"

"You fool!" she raged as she struck, backhanding Michael and knocking him to the ground. "You tortured her inside a cell?!"

"It was the only confined area," Michael said, not understanding her upset.

"A cell is meant to keep a demon, or soul immortal. It doesn't matter how many times they die, they will never cease to exist. She played you like the idiot you are," Charlotte growled. "I should let her kill you for your stupidity. I told you when you first broke the chains on my cell that Mazikeen is the _smartest_ of _all_ the Lilium. She is smarter than Lilith, smarter than you. She has even fooled Lucifer on occasion, and you believed that you could outsmart her in her own _territory_."

Turning away from him with a growl, she stared at the remaining humans, and caught them all under her influence. Commanding the humans to kill each other, she left the room, instructing Michael to clean up the mess left behind. She could manipulate anyone to kill anyone else, or themselves, but to gain the strength she needed to face her son, she needed the power that came from turning bonds of love and family to hate and destruction. 

Glancing back at the room behind her, she eyed the dead and dying with disdain. They were worth nothing to her. None of these humans were worthy of her, and none of their deaths brought her the energy she needed. Turning toward the front door, she left the mansion and stepped into the sunlight. She knew they had put the sigils up around the house to shield her power from being detected, but if Lilith and Michael couldn't bring her what she needed, then it was time that she hunted on her own.

**~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~**

"Detective?" Lucifer called her attention as he stepped toward her, watching as she lowered the phone from her ear slowly, a disbelieving expression on her face. "What's wrong?"

"That was Dan," Chloe told him, her eyes wide. "He's been released."

"What? How?" Lucifer asked, as she moved to sit down on the couch, Hunter going to her side immediately.

"I don't know," she said woodenly. "He wants to talk."

"Chloe?" Lucifer called to her, and met her startled gaze when she looked up at him.

"He asked to talk to me alone," she told him, leaning into his touch when he tucked her hair behind her ear. "Something is very wrong."


	16. Chapter 15

AN: Lucifer and all recognizable characters belong to Jerry Bruckheimer and FOX television. Set post 'Take Me Back to Hell'. (Written prior to the start of season 2.)

 

Summary: There is only one thing that can make an immortal vulnerable, only one thing that can hurt an angel aside from another angel - their mate. It was only a rumor, a baseless myth, something Amenadiel had never believed in, until it happened to Lucifer.

**Memento Mori**

Chapter 15

by WhisperingWolf

Things were changing, Lucifer thought as he stepped into the main area of his penthouse and made his way over to the bar. He arched his brow as he met Shadow's gaze, and chuckled when the hellhound trotted over to the elevator. Shadow stood up on her hind legs, her paws landing high against the elevator doors before she turned her head to look back at him and whined low. Her charge was gone, and she wasn't with her, the separation making the hellhound anxious.

"She's at school," he told Shadow, reasoning with the hound's desire to be with her charge. "She'll be home in a few hours."

Shadow whined low again as she dropped down to stand on all four legs and laid down in front of the elevator. She whined once more as she stared up at Lucifer with a pleading gaze, and laid her head between her paws. The warm chuckle behind him drew his attention, and he looked back to meet Chloe's gaze. Hunter walked beside her, the hellhound refusing to leave her, and he smiled. Unlike dogs of the mortal realm, hellhounds would not leave their charges unless he commanded them to. Not Mazikeen, not Amenadiel, but the Devil himself. And it had only been by his decree that Shadow had stayed behind when Amenadiel and Mazikeen had left with the child earlier that morning.

"She looks so sad," Chloe told him as she looked at Shadow.

"Her charge is out and she isn't with her," he told her, and took in a deep breath as he let his gaze travel over her. "Mm, Detective," he purred in appreciation. "What's the occasion?" he asked as he studied her matching red and black lined racer back tank top and gym shorts. 

"Nothing as risqué as you're thinking," she shot back with a grin. "I'm just going to use the gym. I came out here to see if I left my hair tie out here somewhere. I can't find it. Is she going to be alright?" she asked as she stared at Shadow.

"As soon as your spawn returns from school, she'll be fine," Lucifer told her, and frowned when Chloe laughed. "What?"

"Trixie isn't at school. It's a teacher in service day," she told him, and he frowned in confusion. "No school. She convinced Maze and Amenadiel to take her to the zoo."

"Did she now?" he asked with amusement, and no small amount of pride. "I do believe young Beatrice has those two wrapped around her finger," he mused.

"Oh, please," Chloe teased him. "Look who's talking. She's been able to get more than a few things out of you. You can't tell me that Frozen and Big Hero Six actually made your top ten of movies."

"The music isn't terrible," he defended with a teasing grin, and delighted in Chloe's wide smile.

"She's got you wrapped around her little finger!" Chloe crowed with a laugh. 

"I'm the devil!" he reminded her, his eyes wide as he played their game. "I am not easily swayed by a child," he told her, and watched her arch a brow in silent rebuke.

"All she has to do is look at you with those big puppy dog eyes and you are putty in her hands," she told him with humor, and Lucifer chuckled as he set down his glass and walked toward her. 

"Not so different from her mother," he teased in return, and reached up to touch her cheek. "You didn't have to hide it," he told her as he studied her unblemished skin, the concealer beneath her makeup hiding her bruises.

"I didn't really like looking at it," she confessed softly, and bit her lip as she ducked her eyes before meeting his gaze. "Thank you for the bath this morning. The salts and oils helped."

"You're welcome," he told her breathlessly, and took in a deep breath as he shook himself from the effect she had on him. "Have you heard anything more from Daniel?" he asked her, and watched as she shook her head, anger sparkling in her blue eyes. 

"Not yet," she told him, and shook her head. "I don't like this. I mean I didn't want him to just . . . rot in jail, but . . . His release, especially right now, is just a little too convenient. Don't you think?"

"More than a bit," he agreed, and watched her eyes shift back over his shoulder. "She's fine," he assured her, and sighed as he realized the hellhound behind him would get more sympathy from her than he would.

"Shadow!" Chloe called to her as she patted her thighs, and the hellhound scrambled to her feet, her tail wagging. "Come on, girl. You can hang out with me until Trixie gets back, ok?" she said, and laughed at the happy yip the animal responded with. 

"Bloody hell," Lucifer said, and sighed with irritation and amusement. "These are fearsome beasts!" he exclaimed, and was met with Chloe's laugh as the elevator dinged behind them, neither one taking notice as Gabriel stepped into the penthouse.

"They're teddy bears," she told him, with a teasing grin.

"They're hellhounds," he corrected, finding a measure of enjoyment in their bantering, even as her ability to turn the two most feared hounds of hell into harmless pups irritated him. "They should scare you!"

"They're about as frightening as you are," she pointed out, and his eyes widened with indignant surprise.

"I will have you know I'm plenty frightening," he told her, only to hear her laugh, followed by a groan as she pressed her hand against her injured side. "Serves you right calling me a teddy bear," he scoffed, even as he eyed her with concern.

"Lucifer Morningstar, you don't scare me," she told him with a laugh. 

"I should scare you," he shot back. "I'm the devil!" 

"Mmhmm," she hummed as she placated him. "Of course you are," she said with humor, and his eyes widened with disbelief.

The rolling laughter from behind them drew their attention, and Lucifer turned to meet his brother's amused gaze. He narrowed his eyes on Gabriel, staring at him with annoyance, and it only seemed to amuse his brother more. Gabriel shook his head as he walked toward the pair, and Lucifer clenched his jaw as he swallowed back the emotions his brother's presence never ceased to inspire. There was no small amount of anger, but underneath it was the desire to know why his brother hadn't believed him so long ago, and with that nagging question came the almost ill feeling that made him want to be as far away from Gabriel as possible. 

"Chloe," Gabriel nodded his greeting to her as he smiled brightly, humor still heavy in his tone. "Lucifer," he said as he met his brother's gaze. 

"Gabriel," Lucifer returned, hoping for an air of nonchalance as he stared at his brother.

"I guess working with that punching bag will have to wait," Chloe said, breaking the tension between them as they turned to look at her. "Please tell me there's something more than what I already have in the files she left behind," Chloe said as she met Gabriel's gaze.

"A lot more," he said, and held up the five thick white catalog envelopes he was carrying. "Not that I've been able to make heads or tails of it. She wrote most of it in some kind of code. I was surprised you emailed the change in venue for our meeting. Worried the phone might be bugged?" he asked, only half teasing.

"Uh, no," Chloe told him, stepping toward him as he set four of the thick envelopes on the bar, and held one out to her. "My phone got broken," she said, and felt the heat of Lucifer's stare on her back.

"You were attacked," Lucifer said darkly, correcting her as though he thought she was trying to deny the truth.

"I know what happened," she told him, the expression she looked at him with telling him not to push the issue. "Thank you bringing these," she said as she turned her attention back to Gabriel.

Chloe took the first envelope from Gabriel, the softness of the wrinkled white paper linen telling of how many times the package had been emptied and refilled. Moving to sit on the couch, she hooked her foot under the low coffee table, and pulled it close as she sat forward. The stack of papers inside were a mix of handwritten notes, some as large as legal paper, others as small as a cocktail napkin, there were computer printouts, maps, even photos. Her brow furrowed in curiosity as she looked at each of the photos before setting them aside. Many of them were pictures cut from newspaper articles, while others looked like crime scene photos, but there were a few, barely a handful, that looked to be taken from a camera.

"Did Evangeline own a camera?" she found herself asking, the quiet conversation taking place behind her falling silent.

"There was a Nikon in her office," Gabriel told her, and Chloe nodded without turning back to look at him.

"Do you know what kind?" she asked as she studied one of the pictures.

"D-SLR, I think," he answered, his voice growing closer as he moved to join her on the couch. "The kind with the interchangeable lenses. Looked like one of those cameras they use at sporting events. Why?"

"I think she took these photos herself," Chloe said as she handed the stack of pictures to him. "Lucifer," she called back over her shoulder, as she stared at one photo in particular. "Is Sophia's file over there?" she asked him as she narrowed her eyes on the dark haired girl in the photo. "Her hair's darker, but I'm pretty sure that's Sophia."

She looked up as Lucifer stood next to her, and took the file he offered her. A small grin tugged at her lips as she nodded her thanks, and took the glass he offered her as well. Taking a sip of the scotch, she handed his glass back to him, her lips twitching as she tried to play down her amusement. There were very few times either of them had their own drinks when they were together. It was never spoken about, but the silent preference they both seemed to have for sharing a glass instead of having their own brought her a measure of comfort in the intimacy of it. 

An amused breath escaped her as she realized that not once in her entire relationship with Dan had she ever shared the same glass with him, or eaten from the same plate. Not even at their wedding reception. But with Lucifer, she had fallen into the habit of sharing his glass as though the act of doing so was as natural as breathing. It didn't escape her notice, either, just how many times she and Lucifer had shared the same bowl of snacks, or the same plate of desert. 

She turned the pages in Sophia's file as she looked for the collection of age progression photos, and pulled out the one marked for ten years. Chloe set the file aside as she held the computerized photo up against the picture she held in her other hand. The hair color was different, and her skin was a bit lighter, but the girl in the picture was Sophia. She didn't give it any thought as she handed the pictures to Lucifer first, and watched as he nodded before frowning at the photo.

"Detective," Lucifer said as he tapped the photo Evangeline had taken. "That building right there, is not in L.A."

"What?" Chloe asked as she took the photo back, and looked at the building in the background. "That . . . that's German," she said as she looked closely at the word on the building. "She's in Germany?!"

"Or a country where German is the national language," he reasoned, and Chloe sighed as she shook her head.

"A kidnapping across state lines is hard enough to sort out, but we're talking international lines here," she told him as she shook her head. "If we have any hope of getting Sophia back, we have to make the case solid, beyond the shadow of doubt. We have to have concrete proof that that girl _is_ Sophia."

"So how do we get it?" Gabriel asked her, finding the burden of proof in the mortal world as fascinating as it was frustrating. 

"I don't know," Chloe said slowly as she reached for one of the papers she had set aside, studying the numbers written on the napkin as she tipped her head to the side. 

Chloe's lips moved as she stared at the napkin, though no sound came from her. She felt her breath catch as she looked over the napkin, her mind breaking the encryption with ease as she read the words on the paper. She knew this code because her father had taught it to her. She had been three when he first started teaching her about secret codes and encryptions, it was something they had done for fun, a language only they knew. She smiled as the memory flowed through her mind, as gentle and comforting as a slow summer breeze. 

_Her father sat next to her with a spiral bound notebook in his hands, and a red crayon. Finding a pencil, or a pen near a three year old was all but impossible. He pointed to the page, and Chloe looked down at the numbers as she bit her lip._

_"Ok wildcat," he said as he pointed to a number. "What does this one mean again?"_

_"Daddy," she said with amused patience. "That's the first number, you draw a line under it."_

_"What does it mean?" he asked her again, a smile tipping his lips as he arched his brow._

_"It's how many letters are in the word," she told him, and giggled when he reached out to tickle her._

_"That's my little detective!" he cheered, and kissed her hair. "Now, how do you sort the letters?"_

_"Odd numbers are hard sounds - "_

_"Consonants," he corrected her gently._

_"Constants," she repeated, and he laughed._

_"Close enough," he allowed with a grin. "And even numbers?"_

_"Vowels!" Chloe cheered, and laughed as she looked at the page. "Annnnnd," she stretched out the words as she smiled wide. "If you put a little line and a one next to a number, it means it repeats."_

_"That's right, wildcat," he told her, and smiled with approval. "So, my little detective, how do you write 'Daddy'?"_

_"Five over five two five line one twelve," she said, and clapped her hands when he praised her._

_"You learn this stuff pretty fast, wildcat," he told her. "You holding out on me? You a little genius in disguise?"_

_"You make learning easy, Daddy." She leaned close as her expression became secretive. "I followed the clues like you taught me to. I know where mommy hides the Thin Mints," she told him, and he laughed._

Chloe laughed softly as the memory faded, and stared down at the envelope. She had thought it was empty, but there was the shape of something in the bottom of it. Picking up the envelope as she set the napkin in her hand aside, she tipped the envelope upside down and frowned at the flash drive that fell into her palm. It was an old drive, the thickness and length telling her it was a very early model, and her eyes widened to see that it was only five hundred and twelve megabytes. It was barely enough to hold a few pictures. 

"Huh," Chloe hummed her curiosity as she stood from the couch, and moved across the room.

She had left her work bag beside the bar, her tablet resting on top as it was left to charge. Plugging the USB drive into her tablet, she waited for the window to pop up. There were almost ten notepad files on the drive, and one movie file. Clicking to open the video, she clicked on the notice that the video playback may not be complete as it was an older file. She stilled as her eyes widened, her hand moving up as she fanned her fingers over her lips in surprise.

"Detective?" Lucifer called to her as he stepped up to lean against the bar beside her. "Do you know that man?" he asked as he glanced at the video on the screen.

She nodded quietly. "That's Daddy," she told him, her breath catching as she looked at the face of the father she had lost so long ago.

The angle of the camera moved, a younger Evangeline coming into the screen, only to disappear behind it as she sat off camera. The video refocused on her father once more, and Chloe watched as he nodded to himself before speaking.

_"Chloe's smart, Ms. McAllister. She's damn smart, and if there's a way to get a message out, she's not going to make it so that anyone, but me can read it. Whatever you do, keep this hidden," he said and handed a piece of paper to the woman behind the camera. "That's our code. That encryption may seem simple, but no one, but Chloe and I know it, and believe me a lot of people have tried to crack it. Once you have the code memorized, destroy that key."_

_"You said before that you think something more than a simple kidnapping is going on here," her disembodied voice sounded. "Why do you think that?"_

_"Most kidnappings happen in public places," he told her, "or from the victim's house. She was kidnapped from somewhere they knew she'd be alone, or at least thought she would be. If two, or more kids are together and the person only wants the one, they will kill, or knock the other kids down to get the one they want. These guys didn't do that, they took Chloe and her friend."_

_"Detective Decker," Evangeline said patiently. "I'm not trying to discount what you're saying, but what makes you think it's not random?"_

_He pursed his lips as he released a heavy sigh. "Call it a feeling," he told her._

_"What you say here stays in this room," she tried to assure him, and though he looked ready to argue, he nodded._

_"I was looking into a few cases at work that didn't make much sense. Someone tried to warn me away. Two weeks later my little girl was taken. You tell me, what would you think?"_

The video cut out a few seconds later, the images breaking up as an error showed on the screen. Whatever had been recorded after that point couldn't be played, but what she had seen had been enough. Rage more powerful than anything she had felt before filled her, and the desire to hit something was too powerful to ignore. She shook her head, denying the men around her any insight into her thoughts as she stalked away. 

Her father had been trying to find the truth. Whatever that truth was, she didn't know, but she had been kidnapped because he wouldn't back down. She wasn't angry at him, she was angry at them, at the people who thought they had any right to do this to begin with. Stepping into the gym, she moved to the hanging punching bag and began hitting it as hard as she could, ignoring the pain that lanced through her side with the movements. It hurt to breathe, her breaths coming in choked gasps as she pummeled the bag in front of her. 

Lucifer stepped into the gym behind her, his expression unreadable as he watched her hit the bag. He could hear the sharp gasps and soft whimpers coming from her, the sounds born of both physical and emotional pain. Her hands weren't bound by wraps or gloves, the skin of her knuckles torn from her activities, and he stepped up behind her quietly. Had it been anyone other than her, he wouldn't have cared if they hurt themselves, but he couldn't stand to see Chloe in pain.

Lucifer reached his arms around her, grasping her wrists in a gentle hold, and caught her when she turned to strike. As angry as she was, it was the tears falling down her cheeks that held his attention. He hated this case for how it was ripping her apart. He stood silent as she beat her fists against his chest, taking her anger as he pulled her into the circle of his arms, and held her as her rage turned to pain and grief. Her voice cracked as she called his name, her hands fisting around his suit jacket, and he held her as she sobbed. 

He stroked his hand down over her hair, and dropped a kiss to her head as he rubbed her back. Now, more than ever, he wanted to find the people responsible for these crimes and punish them as they rightfully deserved. It was more than a faceless victim, more than children who had been attacked, more than another case. These monsters had hurt Chloe so long ago, and they were hurting her again. His eyes glowed red as he looked up to meet Gabriel's gaze when his brother stepped into the gym. 

He may still have his reservations, may still want to put a distance between himself and the brother who had once been his best friend, but for Chloe he would put all of that aside. His desire to punish those responsible and protect the woman in his arms far outweighed any discomfort he may have to endure in order to do so. He nodded once to Gabriel, and watched as his brother returned the gesture. 

Looking down when Chloe remained silent, he found her to be asleep, and smiled sadly as he lifted her into the cradle of his arms. He cast his eyes to the side at the sound of the low whine, and met her hellhound's stare. Tipping his head to the side, he motioned for Hunter to follow him, and carried Chloe out of the gym. Laying her down on top of the neatly made bed in his private bedroom, he kissed her temple, and stood. 

"Hunter," he commanded as he pointed to the bed, and watched as the hellhound jumped up. "Shadow," he called to the other hell beast, and watched her sit on her haunches as she stared up at him. "Come find me when she wakes," he instructed Shadow, and watched her eyes flash red. "Protect her," he said, watching as Hunter laid down next to Chloe, the woman rolling in her sleep to tuck herself against the hellhound's warmth.

**~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~**

"Do angels get married?" Trixie asked from where she stood watching the hyenas, her tone as casual and curious as though she were asking why the sky was blue.

Amenadiel choked on the water he had sipped, while Mazikeen looked as though she was struggling not to laugh. The expression on Amenadiel's face was too much, the look of confusion mixed with horror and disbelief made the angel look as though he were in pain, and Mazikeen gripped the rail of the exhibit next to her as she laughed. She snorted as she pulled in the air to breathe, the sound she unintentionally made only making her laugh that much harder. Trixie looked back at them with confusion, not understanding their reactions, and her innocence made tears fill the demon's eyes as she laughed. 

"What's wrong with you two?" Trixie asked as she looked between them, her brow furrowed in confusion. She turned to look at Mazikeen with a frown, and pouted prettily. "You didn't . . . you know . . . kick him in the no-no touch-touch swear?" she asked innocently, and Mazikeen choked on the air she had drawn in to speak.

"No," Mazikeen said, and cleared her throat as her lips twitched with the effort it took to stop laughing. "Come on, Trixie," she said with a half chuckle, unable to contain her amusement as she took the child's hand. "Let's go see the tigers."

"He looks like he's hurt," Trixie said as she looked back at Amenadiel, holding Mazikeen's hand as the woman led her through the zoo.

"He's fine," she assured the girl, her voice thick with amusement. 

"I always wanted a tiger," Trixie mused as they approached the animal habitat, and she climbed up on the railing to look closer at the large cats.

Mazikeen chuckled. "You have a hellhound. She can take on all those tigers and win," she told the girl, and met Trixie's wide eyed gaze. 

"That's so cool!" the girl said, and Mazikeen smiled. "Shadow lets me ride her around," she told her friend. "We've even played hide and go seek. When I was hiding, she always knew exactly where I was. And when she was hiding, I could look for her everywhere, but I wouldn't see her. But then I'd call for her and she'd just appear!"

Mazikeen laughed at the girl's excitement, and nodded. "Hellhounds don't track you based on your scent, they track your soul. She'll always be able to find you, no matter the distance, no matter if you've gotten lost, or someone has taken you. She'll find you every time. Hellhounds can also will themselves to be unseen." She glanced up to see Amenadiel approaching them. "Just like Amenadiel's wings," she told Trixie, and nodded to the angel. "She can make herself invisible, and that makes her a better hunter."

"I wish she could always be with me," Trixie said, her excitement giving way to sadness.

"What makes you think she can't?" Mazikeen asked, as she led Trixie over to a nearby bench and sat down with her, Amenadiel standing guard behind them.

"She's big, right?" Trixie asked. "Which means she's grown up. And big grown up dogs don't live a long time. At least Carrie said they don't. Her St. Bernard had to be put down."

"Hellhounds aren't like any other animal," Mazikeen told her as she tucked Trixie's hair behind her ear. "They're immortal for one. She'll never age, never die, and she can't be killed by any human weapon. Aside from all of that, Lucifer gave her to you. Shadow will be with you for as long as you want."

"Promise?" Trixie asked, and Mazikeen nodded.

"Tired?" Mazikeen asked when the girl leaned against her side.

Trixie nodded quietly, before looking up at Amenadiel. "Are you ok now?" she asked, and the man chuckled. 

"I'm fine," he told her with a grin. "Come on, you," Amenadiel said as he stepped around the bench, and lifted Trixie up to hold her against his shoulder. "Go to sleep if you're tired," he told her, a soft smile tipping his lips when she snuggled against him.

"Three hours," Mazikeen said quietly, and watched as the angel's smile widened.

"And all because a little girl asked you to take her to the zoo," he teased her.

**~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~**

Lucifer returned to the main area of his penthouse quietly, his expression unreadable as he moved to the bar. He could feel his brother's eyes on him as he poured himself a drink, and sipped at the amber liquid inside. Anger rolled through him, burning and demanding to be let out, but he forced it down. As unsettling as his brother's presence was, Gabriel wasn't the only source of his untamed emotions. His brother was simply the tipping point of everything else. 

That was the one thing he had learned from both Dr. Martin and Chloe - don't react to your anger until you've identified where it's coming from. Each person, himself included, may have their slips, but taking out his anger on someone who was undeserving of it wasn't worth the fall out. This case was testing his strength, his patience. He closed his eyes as he felt his brother growing closer, heard the soft sounds of his footsteps behind him.

"Chloe?" Gabriel asked, and Lucifer tipped his head as he took a sip of his scotch.

"Resting," Lucifer replied. "This case has been eating away at her. It's like some kind of demon testing all her barriers just to find a weak spot it can break through."

"You love her," Gabriel said, and Lucifer turned his head to look at his brother, his brow arched. "The way you protect her, comfort her, the way this case is breaking you simply because it's breaking her . . . "

"Is there a point to your rambling?" Lucifer asked dismissively, as he set an empty glass in front of Gabriel and poured him a bit of scotch.

"Be careful with her," Gabriel warned, his voice sounding old and tired.

"What's with you then?" Lucifer asked, his brow furrowed. "Aren't you supposed to be the happy one?"

"There's nothing happy here," he denied. "Do you have any idea what it feels like to be prayed to and not have the option to go to them, or respond? It's like being slowly ripped apart."

"You warned me about Chloe, not the case," Lucifer reminded him. "Why?"

Gabriel took in a deep breath as he lifted his glass and drank of the liquor inside. He was quiet as he set the glass back down, his eyes darker, sadder than before. There was a measure of anger and betrayal behind his gaze, and Lucifer's frown deepened as he met his brother's eyes.

"I found love once with a human," Gabriel admitted. "It was a long time ago, back before your fall, actually. I wasn't as deeply tied to her as you are with Chloe, but we were close."

"What happened?" Lucifer asked curiously, and watched his brother drop his gaze.

"Mother corrupted her," he admitted softly, the pain of the loss in his voice. "You know, Father didn't seem to have a problem with her corrupting those humans we were close to," he said, indicating himself, Lucifer, and their siblings. "But it was her corruption of that group of devout believers in Him that He took issue with." 

"Is that why you started staying with me in Father's library?" Lucifer asked. "Why you stopped going down to Earth?"

"I couldn't stand to look at it anymore," Gabriel said. "Every place I looked reminded me of her. But for all the memories I had, all I could see were her last moments. The way she tortured her brother, the way she killed herself."

" _Sarah?_ " Lucifer's tone was harsh, breathless. His brother's revelation made him feel as though he'd been punched in the stomach. "That was the mortal you'd fallen for? In the village surrounded by the fields of meadowsweet?"

"You knew her?" Gabriel asked with confusion, and Lucifer nodded.

"Mother corrupted her, not because of you," Lucifer told him. "But because of me. I'd watched over her since she was born. There was something about her. I found her fascinating. Her soul . . . sang," he said with a curious frown, unable to find a better description. "Mother said she made me weak. She held me there and made me watch as she corrupted Sarah. Called it an art form. I didn't know you were there."

"I was in her house," he said, and shook his head. "She had been singing to me moments before mother appeared. I had a front row seat to all of it."

Lucifer closed his eyes as he shook his head. It was yet another thing he had to thank his mother for. Just another reason that he wanted her found and confined back in her cage. The things she had done as "lessons" to her children, things she claimed to do out of love, had been nothing short of emotional and mental torture. He was the Devil. He knew punishment, and his mother had seemed to desire to punish anyone and everyone, regardless if they were mortal, or angel. Who was innocent and who was guilty meant nothing to her.

"She was so proud," Gabriel said, a harsh breath of angry amusement following his words.

"What?" Lucifer asked with a shake of his head.

"Mother," Gabriel said, as he met his brother's gaze. "She was so proud of how she had been able to manipulate Sarah. Proud of the way she had made her kill her brother and then herself. Mother told me that you would be just like her."

"And you believed her?" Lucifer asked, his words little more than an angry hiss as he moved away from the bar.

"I was hurt, and I was angry," Gabriel reasoned as he shook his head. 

Lucifer could feel the heat of his brother's stare as he moved through the room. He stepped close to the piano, but as much as the playing the instrument usually calmed him, it seemed to taunt him now. How many times had he and Gabriel created music by directing the way the wind blew through the trees and flowering grasses? How many years had been spent speaking to each other without words, simply because it was more enjoyable to do so through music? There was a part of him that wanted to destroy the piano, if only to end the burning pain in his chest, the tightness that held his breath captive and made him feel ill.

"You actually believed I'd want to see people suffer?" Lucifer asked, his voice low, and tone disbelieving.

"Sammie - " Gabriel called to him, and Lucifer turned to stare at him as his eyes flashed crimson.

"Don't!" Lucifer warned, his voice low and dangerous. "Don't you _dare_ call me that. Samael is long dead. You and everyone else made certain of that." He released an angry snort, a fleeting smile curving his lips in anger and pain. "Though you lot have convinced yourselves that I've always been as I am now, and I wasn't."

"You could pull out a person's deepest darkest desire," Gabriel reminded him, as though it explained everything. "You could tempt them just like Mother could."

Lucifer shook his head as anger and pain spiraled together like some kind of macabre tornado. He released a harsh hateful laugh as he stared at Gabriel. 

"That was _Father's gift_ to me," he denied. "Just like hearing the prayers and cries of children was yours. There was no form to fill out. I didn't _ask_ for it."

"You started a _rebellion_ because of it!" Gabriel fired back.

Lucifer scoffed as he pulled back. "Did it ever occur to you that it _wasn't my_ rebellion?" he asked Gabriel, arching his brow in silent rebuke. "Did you even consider the possibility? Or did you just buy into the party line like everyone else?" he asked with a dismissive sneer. 

"You really do hate me, don't you?" Gabriel asked as he stared at Lucifer in disbelief. "We were close once," he said, and Lucifer snarled as his eyes flashed crimson.

"Don't tell _me_ how close we were like I was the one who forgot. You _knew me_ better than anyone else. Better even than Father," Lucifer reminded him with a growl, as he turned away, his laugh full of anger and pain. "You never stopped to _ask_ me why. You just _assumed_ you knew why because everyone else told you I had done it. I _didn't start_ the bloody rebellion."

"You acted like it was nothing," Gabriel shot back, and Lucifer spun around to face him, hurt and rage in his eyes.

" _Because I didn't know!_ " Lucifer snarled in return. "I didn't know there was a rebellion. I didn't know there was a war, or _any_ of it." He turned away as he growled low. " _You knew me_ better than anyone, and you believed them. You believed I'd see our siblings suffer. You believed I would see everything torn apart, and for what? _What was the point of it?!_ Please someone tell me what the _bloody point_ of that rebellion was because I still don't know!"

"That's because it was never _your_ rebellion," Amenadiel said from behind them. 

Lucifer and Gabriel turned to meet their brother's gaze, his expression angry and hard. Trixie was asleep in his arms, her head resting on his shoulder as she kept her face tucked against his throat. Amenadiel rubbed the girl's back as he passed the child off to Mazikeen, and watched her carry the girl to the hallway past the bar. He turned back to meet Lucifer's and Gabriel's gazes in turn, once Mazikeen had disappeared from sight. 

"I asked Father point blank if he knew that the rebellion wasn't your idea," he told Lucifer, and drew in a deep steadying breath. 

"Oh, I'm sure that went over well," Lucifer scoffed. 

"I definitely learned a few things," Amenadiel responded, his voice calm despite the spark of cold rage in his eyes. "Not only did He know, but He sat back and watched as Michael orchestrated the whole thing. He said He allowed it because you were always meant to be the Devil, but that you wouldn't accept it," he told his brothers with a shake of his head. 

"He . . . _what?_ " Gabriel asked with disbelief. " _He knew?!_ " 

"He knew. He allowed it, and though He didn't say as much," Amenadiel told them. "I got the distinct impression that He encouraged it." 

"He _blamed me_ for _everything_ ," Lucifer growled, his voice low and angry. "He _vilified_ me, and for what? So I would rule a Hell that I never wanted to create in the first place?" 

"Yes," Amenadiel said, and Lucifer shook his head as he turned away from his brothers. "There's something else . . ." He paused as he took in a deep breath. "He knows Michael helped Mother escape." 

"Wait - what?" Gabriel asked breathlessly. "He . . . what?" he asked, disbelief heavy in his tone as he shook his head. 

"He knew," Lucifer repeated with a slow nod. "And will His precious Michael be cast out for doing so?" 

"I don't know," Amenadiel answered honestly. 

Lucifer shook his head as he smiled, and began to laugh. It was all too surreal. Michael had betrayed him the first time with their father's blessing. He had been vilified, turned into a torturer because it was part of _His_ plan. Their mother had escaped Hell with his brother's help, the same brother who had betrayed him the first time, and his father knew about that as well. _He knew_ about all of it, and He wasn't doing a damn thing to stop it. 

"Lucifer this isn't funny," Gabriel said, and Lucifer laughed harder. 

" _Isn't it?_ " he asked his brothers, laughing as he stared at them in turn. "Don't you see?" he asked them as he laughed. "I'm His _favorite_ son. He _created me_ to be the fall guy for _everything!_ I'm just the scapegoat so that no one has to take responsibility." 

He walked away from them, his laughter covering the pain that burned through him. He had held out hope. Some part of him, the smallest parts that remained of who he had once been, the bits of Samael that still existed inside of him, still longed for his father's love and approval, had held out hope that once the truth was discovered . . . He shook his head as his amusement fell away once he was out of sight of his siblings. There was nothing left, but a sense of worthlessness, the feeling of a pain so deep it left him disconnected and unable to feel anything around him. 

"Lucifer?" 

He looked up to meet the concerned gaze of his faithful guardian. He shook his head as he moved past her, only to stop when she grabbed his arm. 

"Not now, Maze," he said without turning to look at her. 

"What's happened?" she asked him fiercely. 

"Ask your boyfriend," he dismissed her, the lack of emotion in his voice stunning her. 

Lucifer stepped away from her, her hand falling away from him as he continued down the hallway. He hadn't even known he'd been hoping for something different, for something better, until the very idea of it had been crushed in front of him. Everything felt raw and aching, the old wounds he'd suffered from the betrayal of his fall had been reopened, only to be left bared and bleeding inside of him. He looked up as he came to the door of his private bedroom, and released an amused sigh as he opened the door. 

How was it that whenever he was hurting, he sought them out? Why did they have the power to ease his suffering? Stepping over to the bed, he lifted Trixie from where she lay sleeping, and held her against his chest as he sat down against the headboard. Shadow whined low as she stepped over to him, and he smiled sadly as the hellhound laid her head on his knee. Petting her quietly, he tipped his head back against the wall with a sigh. He wouldn't fight his mother because she escaped. He wouldn't fight her because His father commanded it. He wouldn't even do it to protect the masses of innocents. But he would fight her to protect the child in his arms, and her mother. 

"Lucifer?" 

He turned his head to meet Trixie's drowsy gaze. "It's alright, darling," he soothed her. "Go back to sleep." 

"Love you," Trixie said sleepily as she wrapped her arms around his neck, and tucked her face into the side of his throat. 

"Love you, too, moppet," he whispered as he closed his eyes. 


	17. Chapter 16 "Dan's Bet and Chloe's Fall"

AN: Lucifer and all recognizable characters belong to Jerry Bruckheimer and FOX television. Set post 'Take Me Back to Hell'. (Written prior to the start of season 2.)

 

Summary: There is only one thing that can make an immortal vulnerable, only one thing that can hurt an angel aside from another angel - their mate. It was only a rumor, a baseless myth, something Amenadiel had never believed in, until it happened to Lucifer.

**Memento Mori**

Chapter 16

**_"Dan's Bet and Chloe's Fall"_**

by WhisperingWolf

Chloe took in a deep breath as she gave the counter one last wipe down, and looked to the coffee maker behind her to check the time. He hadn't called her from prison to ask for a ride home, he hadn't even called to let her know that he had been released until he was back home in the house they had once shared. It still bothered her that Dan had asked to meet her alone, but there was a part of her that could understand. They hadn't left things on solid ground when he'd turned himself in. There were things he had to say that she knew he wouldn't want anyone else to hear.

It was the timing of it that bothered her the most. If he had been released a month ago, or a month from now, she may not be as concerned, but he had been released the same day she had been attacked inside the station. Lucifer hadn't liked the timing any better than she had, and though reluctant, he had dropped her off at her house after they had taken Trixie to school in his Corvette. The knock at the door startled her, and she turned to face it as she drew in a deep steadying breath, and released it in a slow sigh.

One last glance in the polished screen of her phone confirmed that her makeup was in place, covering up the bruises on her face. She knew Dan would automatically assume it had been Lucifer who had hurt her instead of asking her what had happened. She stepped toward the door with a calming sigh, and invited Dan inside, wondering just why it was that her ex was making her feel so off balance and out of sorts when he hadn't even said anything yet. 

"Hey Dan," she greeted him, and closed the door as she followed him into the kitchen. "Coffee's fresh," she offered him the drink, and watched him nod.

"Is _he_ here?" Dan asked, and she shook her head.

"No, he took Trixie to school," she told him, and shook herself in attempt to get rid of the nerves that kept her timid. "So, what happened?" she asked him, and watched as he met her gaze. "You were released, Dan. Last I heard the prosecutor had been looking at reducing the charges, but not eliminating them."

"I'm guessing your boyfriend had something to do with that," he told her, and she pulled back at the sudden venom in his voice.

"What are you talking about?" she asked, confused by his sudden show of temper.

"You tell me," he commanded of her. "About a week ago, the Chief comes to see me in jail, and suddenly everything I did with Malcolm, every crime I've been charged with gets swept under the rug as part of an undercover operation. I know for a fact that there was no _undercover operation_ going on at all, but I'm released, given a commendation for the actions taken to bring down Malcolm Graham, and am not only released from jail, but fully reinstated in the LAPD as though nothing happened. And then the Chief of Police is telling _me_ that I _owe him_ a favor now," he told her. "So, you tell me, what strings did you have Lucifer pull to get me out?"

Chloe stared at him wide eyed as she realized just how deep Dan was in, and he had no clue. She couldn't tell him, either. Not after his reaction and cover up on the Palmetto case. She hadn't been able to trust him since then, but more than that, he had just told her he was in the Chief's pocket. There was no telling how high the corruption ran, but what she did know told her that the Chief was at the center of almost all of it. 

"This wasn't Lucifer," she denied as she stared at Dan. "The only thing he did was a hire a lawyer for you, which he didn't tell me about at the time, by the way," she told him, reminding him of the way he had reacted, and what he had said when he'd called her about it from jail. "But as I recall, he said you turned the man away and told him not to come back." 

"I don't need, or want charity from the man who's sleeping with my wife," he said, and Chloe shook her head as her nerves gave way to anger and she stepped back.

"We're not sleeping together," she snapped, her patience having run out for this old argument. "And it's _ex_ -wife. I filed for divorce Dan, _before_ you turned yourself in. _Before_ everything that happened with Malcolm. I've had the paperwork ready for _months_ , I just never turned it in."

"Just another thing to thank Lucifer for," he said with a sneer.

"No!" She stepped in front of him, blocking his path to the door. "No. This isn't about Lucifer. I told you a few months ago to stop laying the blame where it doesn't belong. I got that paperwork _before_ I met Lucifer. The only person you have to blame is yourself," she told him, angry and tired of his constant blame game. "I can't even count the number of times Trixie and I needed you, and you were never there. Don't," she commanded when he opened his mouth to argue. "I'm talking about before we separated. The nights when she was scared, the times when she was sick. Hell, how about the day at school when she fell and hit her head on her desk. The injury may not have been that serious in the end, but the school called both of us to let us know she'd been taken to the hospital when they couldn't stop the bleeding."

She turned away as the anger and abandonment from the memory resurfaced. "She was five, Dan! _Five!_ I left an arrest in Long Beach to go to her. You were at the station, closer to her than I was, and you didn't show up until after six that night when I was getting ready to take her home. And that wasn't just once! It happens every time. Every single time Trixie has needed you, you have either been late, or not there at all."

She looked at him, waiting for him to say something, but he just stared at her silently. "Do you know that when she's upset, she'll run to Lucifer. He's been teaching her to play the piano," she told him, her voice quiet as she struggled to hold back the pain she felt. "He sits with her and talks with her, and listens to her. He may not always give her the best advice, but he has been there for her - for both of us - more than you ever have, and we were _married_."

"What do you want from me, Chloe?" Dan asked her, exasperated by the conversation. "What do you want me to say?"

"I want to know _why_ ," she demanded of him, as she threw her arms up in defeat. " _Why_ did Trixie and I always come last? _Why_ were you only there when it suited you to be? When she was sick, or hurt, or scared, why didn't you care? Why -"

" _You were a bet!_ " he cut her off, his words an angry shout. The confession seemed forced and unintended, as though he hadn't meant to ever reveal the truth to her. 

"What?" she asked breathlessly, the blood draining from her face.

"You were a bet," he said, quieter, but no less angry. "I saw Hot Tub High School before you became a detective, back when you were just a uniform. Hell, we all had. Paolucci, Malcolm, and I had seen it so many times, and we made a bet on who could have you first," he told her, wanting to hurt her for the abandonment he had felt when Lucifer had entered her life.

"You - what?" she asked horrified, her mind spinning with disbelief, as she stumbled to the couch.

Chloe shook her head as she tried to wrap her mind around what he had said. She couldn't feel the floor beneath her feet, or the heat of the sun shining on her through the open window. She felt detached, emotionally and physically as her mind began to spin. Their first meeting felt like a lie to her, the moments and words spinning through her head. He had treated her as though he knew nothing about the movie, even going so far as to act surprised when she had brought it up in conversation months later. 

"I was a bet?" she repeated his words, her voice wooden and lifeless. "How much of it was real?" she asked him, blinking slowly as she felt her mind slowing to a crawl, her thoughts beginning to shut down. 

"Does it matter?" he shouted, angered by her reaction. 

"Yes," she said, turning her head to look at him. "It matters. We were married, Dan. We have a child together. How much of that was real?" She shook her head as she advanced on him. "The night I told you I was pregnant, you asked me to marry you. You said you'd been planning it for months, but you didn't have a ring." Her gaze fell away from him as the detective part of her began to organize the new information in with the all that she already knew. "That night . . . You weren't planning to ask me to marry you," she told him, meeting his gaze as she demanded an answer from him.

"I was planning to break up with you. Things had gone farther than I intended. You were only supposed to be a one-night thing," he told her, wondering how the conversation had gotten so out of control. "But you were pregnant."

"Get out of my house," she commanded in a whisper, her mind reeling. "Get out," she commanded again when he failed to move.

She didn't notice him leave, didn't hear the door slam on his way out. Her legs folded beneath her as she sank to the floor, sitting on the hard wood with her legs folded to the side as her mind began playing memories too fast for her to process. Every moment from the first day he'd asked her out for coffee, to the night of their wedding was flooding back, her brain showing her each moment in vivid detail as it labeled everything a lie. 

She frowned in confusion, too distracted by her memories, her mind working too slowly to understand what was happening. Something warm wrapped around her, darkness filling her vision, as she felt herself being lifted from the floor. Somewhere in the distance was a voice, she could almost hear it calling to her, but the sound was too far away to grab onto. In that moment, the only thing she wanted was Lucifer. Without fail, he had always been able to make things better, and she needed him now more than she ever had.

**~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~**

Something just didn't feel right, and Lucifer hated not knowing what was going on. He had promised to give her time alone to speak with Dan, but it had already been well over an hour, and he hadn't heard from her. He very much doubted she would be inclined to perform any intimate acts with him, knowing how she felt about the man, and dialed her cell phone, only for his call to go unanswered. 

Nearly two hours after he had left her to take her spawn to school, Lucifer pulled up in front of her house. He exited his car gracefully, and made his way to the door, only to still as he peered through the parted curtains on the window in the door. He didn't think twice as he reached for the hide-a-key and let himself inside. 

"Chloe," he called to her, moving to her in three long strides. "Chloe," he called to her again as he knelt down in front of her and cupped her face in his hands. "Chloe, look at me," he commanded of her, her silence unnerving him. "What did that bastard do to you?" he asked as he dropped his hands from her face, and gathered her up in his arms. 

He moved over to the couch and sat down with her, holding her in his lap as he tucked her head beneath his chin. She didn't seem to know he was there, and that disturbed him more than anything. He held her tight against his chest, talking to her, as he tried to coax any kind of response from her, but there was nothing. She was silent and unmoving in his arms. 

"Lucifer," she whispered, his name on her lips almost too soft to be heard.

"I'm here, darling," he promised her, and rubbed her shoulder. "I'm right here."

"Lucifer," she called his name again, just the tiniest bit louder, as though she were searching for him.

"I'm here," he promised her again, and pulled back to stare in her eyes. "Come back to me, love," he coaxed her as he studied her, watching as her eyes seemed to grow more aware of her surroundings.

"Lucifer," she called again, blinking as she seemed to recognize that he was there with her. "Lucifer," she sobbed his name as her eyes filled with tears. 

He held her when she wrapped her arms around him, soothing her as he listened to her cry and felt her tremble in his arms. He felt his eyes burn as crimson filled his gaze, and swore he would gain his pound of flesh from her ex for the state he had left her in. She clung to him as she buried her face in the curve of his throat, and he realized absently that she was trying to hide against him. He turned his head slightly, kissing her damp cheek, before he leaned back against the couch. 

"I've got you," he promised her as he turned and laid back, taking her with him until she lay on his chest. "Shhh, I'm right here," he assured her as she continued to call his name, and petted her hair. "I could send Maze after Detective Douche," he offered her, his lips curling in a grin when he received a soggy laugh from the woman crying on his chest. "She really did enjoy playing with him the last time they tangled together."

Chloe sniffled as her sobs died down to quiet tears, and turned her head to rest her cheek against his chest. The idea of Lucifer's ninja bartender going after Dan was more than a little comforting, and she laughed a bit at the thought of it.

"It might be fun to watch her slap him around a bit," she said, and smiled at the salacious purr she received from Lucifer.

"Mmm, Detective," Lucifer hummed gleefully. "Is there a little bit of a devil inside of you? You naughty little minx." He smiled when she laughed at his teasing, and petted her hair in long slow strokes as he held her close. "What happened, darling? What did he do?" he asked her gently, his voice soothing her as his teasing fell away. 

She had always been so strong, untouchable in some regards, that to see her like this now enraged him as much as it worried him. That he had Dan to blame for this only made him burn hotter. The man had been given everything, yet Lucifer had watched him repeatedly treat his ex-wife and daughter as though they meant nothing.

"He was mad from the start," she told him, releasing a heavy sigh as she curled closer to him. "He said the chief came by to see him. All the charges against him have been dropped, and everything he did is being written up as some kind of undercover operation." She told him all that Dan had revealed to her about his meeting with the Chief of Police, and his release. "He blamed you for it," she told Lucifer a few moments later, confusion heavy in her voice. "He thought you pulled strings, or something. Especially when the Chief told Dan he now owed him a favor."

"That doesn't explain the state I found you in," Lucifer told her as he rubbed her back, able to feel her growing tired against him, her emotional release leaving her exhausted. "Tell me."

"I got mad at him," she confessed after a few long moments of silence. "He was once again placing the blame on you for things he had done, and I just . . . snapped, I guess. I told him that in the time I've known you, you've been there for Trixie and I more than he ever has. I kept pushing him, I wanted to know why he was only there for us when it was convenient for him."

"I'm guessing, from the looks of things, his answer wasn't exactly good," he said, and tipped his head to kiss her hair.

"He said I was a bet," she said softly, her words just a bit slurred, and he knew she was nearing sleep.

"He. Said. What?" Lucifer asked slowly, each word spoken more tightly than the last as anger burned through him to his core.

"I was a bet," she repeated, her voice breathy and soft, grief coloring her words. "Between him, Malcolm, and Paolucci . . . To see which one could have me first," she told him, repeating Dan's words as her eyes fell closed. "The only reason he asked me to marry him was because I got pregnant. It was all a lie."

"I do believe it's time your dear Detective Douche and I had a conversation," he said, a dangerous growl in his voice. 

"You keep me safe," she mumbled, her whispered words slurred, and he knew she was talking in her sleep. 

"I'll always keep you safe, Chloe," he promised her. "You're mine to protect."

"Someday I'll find him," she mumbled, and he frowned in confusion.

"Find who, darling?" he asked, wondering how long she would keep talking like this before sleep claimed her completely.

"Your dad," she said, and his brow furrowed as his lips curled up in a bemused smile. "He'll answer to me for what he did to you. So many scars, Lucifer and not just on your back. Son of a bitch hurt you," she mumbled, and he smiled as he hugged her close.

"My little hell cat, ready to claw out God's eyes just because he hurt the Devil?" he said in awe.

"You're mine to protect," she said slowly, repeating his words as her voice faded away, and sighed as she fell silent.

"Chloe Decker, avenging angel of the Devil himself," he said in wonder as he held her. "However did I find you?"

**~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~**

"Maze," Lucifer called out in a soft voice as he stepped in from outside, carrying Chloe as she slept in his arms. "Go find Detective Douche and annoy him for me," he said as he moved toward his private elevator. 

"What happened?" she asked as she looked between him and the mortal in his arms.

"He hurt her," he said simply, and watched his demon's eyes darken dangerously. "Have fun with him, Maze. I'll join you when I can."

The elevator doors closed in front of him, separating him and Chloe from Mazikeen, and he breathed a sigh of relief at the simple pleasure of having returned home. He stepped out of the elevator a short moment later, carrying Chloe through his penthouse and into his private bedroom. She hummed softly in her sleep and curled closer to him, tucking her face into the curve of his throat. 

"Sleep for me," he bid of her as he lowered her to his bed.

Lucifer removed Chloe's boots, jacket, and belt before laying her back against the pillows, and sat next to her as he watched her sleep. He knew there would be more coming than just the single emotional outburst she had succumbed to when he had found her. What Dan had done, truth or not, in anger or not, had left her raw and bared. 

Everything she thought she knew would be suspect now, and every memory she had once treasured would become tainted and stained. She wouldn't simply be doubting her memories, but doubting herself. And the thought, the very likely possibility, that her ex had done this with the intention of breaking her, only made him all the more furious. He had seen it from the beginning, the very first meeting. Dan had a kind of childish jealousy that often made him treat Chloe and Trixie like toys.

That the bet had been between Dan, Paolucci, and Malcolm was icing on the proverbial cake. She would be turning to him for strength and stability, more than she was already. As if the continued threat of the corruption case she was working hadn't been enough, the powers that be had decided she needed to be broken just a little bit more, and had hit her where it hurt the most. She didn't deserve this punishment. She could never deserve this kind of torment, and he closed his eyes against the anger boiling through him. 

Was this his Father's doing? Had his Father decided to punish her because she had fallen for the Devil? He shook his head as he looked down at Chloe, and reached out to smooth her hair back from her face. Leaning down over her, he kissed her brow, and stood from the bed. He may not kill Dan, but he was going to make sure that man felt the fires of Hell for all he had done. 

"Hunter," he called to the Hellhound, and watched as the great black beast trotted into the room. "Stay with, Chloe. Guard her," he instructed, and watched the hound nod his head once in a slow motion of understanding. 

Stepping out of the room, he found Shadow's large form to be curled up on the floor in front of his couch, and smiled to see Trixie curled against the hound's side. Shadow's thick tail lay over the girl's lap, the girl's face half hidden in the thick dark coat of the animal's fur. Crouching down in front of the beast, he reached out to pet her fur.

"Protect this one, Shadow. She is yours to guard," he told the hellhound, and watched as her eyes flashed crimson in acknowledgement of his command.

"Lucifer." He looked down at the sound of Trixie's sleep-filled voice, and met her gaze, her eyes barely open. "Thank you for the puppy."

"Not quite a puppy," he teased her with a smile. "You're welcome, Beatrice. Go back to sleep," he told her, and leaned close enough to press a kiss to her brow.

The young girl hummed softly as she burrowed deeper into her guardian's fur, and he watched as Shadow turned her head to lick the girl's cheek. A hellhound was extremely faithful and fiercely protective, but they were also very gentle and kind to those they were charged with protecting. It had been so long since these two great beasts of his had anyone to protect but himself. They were his most faithful guardians, and the most feared of all his hellhounds. No one and nothing had ever escaped their grasp.

Retrieving his cell phone from his inside jacket pocket, he looked down at the text from Mazikeen as he stepped toward the elevator. He arched a brow to see where the detective had ended up, and smiled as he realized he wouldn't have to go very far. Mazikeen had found Dan at The Paddock, a rather predictable location, and had convinced him to come back to LUX. From what she had said in her text, the mortal man was at least six shots of rum in and was rather suggestible.

"Rum shots," Lucifer said with a sigh as he stepped into the elevator, and pressed the button for LUX. "The drink of douches everywhere."

Chloe was a whiskey girl, mostly Irish, but she did appreciate a good scotch which was just another thing that endeared her to him. More than a few times they had shared a drink, and it didn't escape his notice how many of those drinks had simply been her taking sips from his glass. It was amusing to think back on it now and realize that it had been less than two weeks after meeting him that she had been comfortable enough to drink from his glass. Perhaps he should have recognized that little sign earlier on, he thought, and looked up as the elevator doors opened.

"He's been spitting acid like a cobra," Mazikeen told him as he stepped out into the club. "The more he drinks, the more he blames you for losing your pet detective."

"Oh my," Lucifer purred as he studied his demon. "He has ruffled your feathers, hasn't he?"

"Rum apparently makes him mean and spiteful," she said, her tone clipped and annoyed. "He seems to believe that Chloe trapped him into marriage by getting pregnant, but is pissed off that she left him."

He hummed his irritation with the man and smiled wickedly. "Anything else?"

"There was one thing he kept saying, but it doesn't make much sense," she told him, and looked back at the man in the question. "Something about how Chloe should be honored by the bet, and that when Trixie was three it wasn't just a bet anymore," she said, and shook her head in confusion.

Lucifer growled low as his eyes burned, and felt the glee in his demon's emotions when the Devil inside him raged.

"He and a few others, including Malcolm, made a bet to see who could bed our dear detective first," he told her. "The douche won out. Chloe didn't know anything about the bet until today, when he used it against her."

Mazikeen growled low as her true face showed itself, and Lucifer tipped his head as he looked at her in delight. The friendship, or camaraderie between his demon and the good detective may only have been a recent development, but the length of time didn't matter to Mazikeen. When she decided someone was worth protecting, her loyalty to them was absolute. That Chloe had been hurt in such a manner by the one person whom she was supposed to be able to trust, only made his demon desire the mortal's punishment all the more. 

Lucifer moved past Mazikeen, descending the stairs into the club's main floor, and stepped silently up to Dan's side. He blinked as he looked at the man and shook his head. It seemed Dan couldn't hold his liquor very well, a bit of a cheap drunk, really. Chloe, on the other hand, Lucifer mused, could go through half a bottle of whiskey before she even seemed to get tipsy. The more he compared the two, the more he wondered exactly what she had seen in this man. Detective Douche wasn't even worthy of kissing the ground she walked on, in his opinion.

"So tell me, Daniel," Lucifer said, announcing his presence as he stepped behind the bar and reached for a bottle of one hundred fifty year old scotch. "Why did you refuse that lawyer I sent?"

"You didn't really think I was going to take charity from you, did you?" Dan asked, his words a bit slurred by the alcohol he'd consumed. "Sent some guy in a suit just because she asked you to?"

"She didn't ask. Chloe didn't know anything about the lawyer until you called her from jail and bit her head off for it," he told the man. "Yet another thing I've to thank you for." He took in a deep breath as he set his glass down. "I find it interesting, really. She is a brilliant detective with finely honed instincts, beautiful, and kind hearted, yet at every turn you seem to punish for that," he mused, his tone amused even as his eyes shined dangerously. 

Dan scoffed as he slammed his empty glass down on the bar. "You only think that because you're sleeping with her."

"Not that it's any of your business, but she and I have done little more than kiss," he told Dan as he refilled his glass. "Kraken, really? There a few better rums, smoother. I can recommend one if you'd like."

"Just Kraken," Dan replied, and looked up to meet Lucifer's gaze. "So, why'd you send your little pet after me?"

"Oh, I'd be careful with that, Detective Douche," he chuckled, his tone mocking the mortal. "Maze can be quite formidable when the moment strikes her interest. Tell me about this . . . _bet_ , I keep hearing about."

It didn't take much prodding to get the full story from the man. Hot Tub High School had been a movie the three men had often bonded over, for lack of a better term. When it had come to their attention that the star of the movie, one Miss Chloe Decker, had become an actual uniformed police officer, the detectives had descended on her like a pack of wolves. They hadn't attacked her, or talked to her, but what they had done was plan amongst themselves for how each would bed her if given the chance. 

A wager had been formed between the men. Dan, Malcolm, and Paolucci had decided that whoever was with her first would find a way to send proof to the others. A picture would have been enough, but Daniel had been proud of his conquest. Proud enough in fact, to send a short video to the other two men. Malcolm and Paolucci may be dead, Lucifer thought, but the fact did little to assuage his indignant rage over the fact that Chloe had been violated in such a crass way.

She knew nothing about the video, Dan had never told her and the other men had never mentioned it, but in the short recording, Chloe had been giving Dan oral sex. He was proud of the video because of the sex act, and told him drunkenly, that the recorded blow job seemed to somehow prove that she was nothing more than a glorified porn star. Lucifer watched as the mortal pulled back sharply, his drunken movements making him fall from his chair.

"What the hell, man?!" he cried out as he scrambled to his feet. "Fucking lights in this place," he slurred as he wavered unsteadily, and reached out to support himself on the bar. "Red eyes," he mumbled as he reclaimed his seat.

"She worked hard to get to where she is," Lucifer said in low tones, the shadows around him growing larger and darker as they bent to his will. "She is smarter than you will ever be, and more noble than your simple brain can comprehend."

Dan laughed. "Still trying to get into her pants, huh?" He was too drunk to remain still, the alcohol he'd ingested making it impossible for him to hold anything back. "Tell her you respect her," he said, his tone mocking as he giggled drunkenly. "Act like you take her seriously as a cop, and it'll get her ready. Hell, you're already eight months in. Took me a year to get into her pants. Frigid bitch."

His temper getting the better of him, Lucifer's hand lashed out, and he grasped Dan's shirt front as he pulled the man halfway across the bar until they were nose to nose. The growl rumbling through his chest was low and dangerous, the feel of the rage burning through him stronger than he had felt since leaving Hell behind. He wanted to drag Dan back down to Hell, torture him for all he had done to Chloe, but he would have to settle for something a bit more mundane.

Dan squeaked at the sudden movement, his rum-addled brain slow to catch up with what had happened. It had been there before when the detective had shown up at LUX all those months back demanding he protect his wife, and it was something Lucifer would use against the man now. The Lord of Hell relaxed, the anger leaving his face as his expression smoothed out into something a bit more seductive, luring the man in like a moth to a flame.

"What if it's you I want?" Lucifer purred as he leaned closer, and rubbed his nose alongside the mortal's. He chuckled low, the sound more of a salacious purr than anything, when Dan made an unintelligible noise. "Come now, Detective," he drawled the words, and flicked his eyes down to the man's lips. "You can't tell me you're not curious. I could make it a good night for you. A damn good night," he purred, and sighed when the man simply slumped over. "Tosser," he muttered as he shoved the unconscious man away with a flick of his wrist. "Maze," he called to his demon, and met her hungry stare when she stepped close. "Have fun."

She laughed dangerously as she looked at the man sprawled on the floor. Lucifer's instructions to her earlier still stood, no permanent damage could be done, and he couldn't be killed, but those were the only things off limits. Stepping around from behind the bar, Lucifer looked down to the mortal on the floor, and felt his eyes burn as crimson filled his gaze. He remembered what Mazikeen had told him, that somewhere around Trixie turning three, it had stopped being a bet. But that left the question: what had the bastard done to Chloe before then.

"Make him question everything," he instructed his demon before he turned and moved toward the stairs leading up to his elevator. "Destroy his sense of self like he did hers."

"You're not staying around for the punishment?" she asked incredulously. 

"I've got what I came for, Maze," he told her, glancing at her from over his shoulder. 

Mazikeen frowned as she studied him from where she stood. "He did more damage to her than you're saying," she told him, her brow furrowed with a touch of concern for her newly formed friendship. 

"A fair bit more," he answered as he stepped inside the elevator, meeting her gaze as the doors closed around him separating them. 

A few seconds later, he stepped into his penthouse and released a heavy sigh of relief to be back with the two mortal females who had come to mean so much to him. Stepping over to his bar, he poured himself a bit of scotch and moved over to sit on the couch. Shadow was still curled up on the floor, Trixie tucked into the hell beast's side, and he found the sight of it comforting. He watched the mortal child sleep as he sipped his liquor and set his glass aside as he stood. 

Why did he feel the need to hold her, he wondered as he moved closer and lifted the sleeping child into his arms. Why did he need the comfort of holding her, when he'd never needed anything like it before? He reclaimed his seat on the couch, holding Trixie with her tiny face tucked into the curve of his throat as he kept her close with his arms wrapped around her back. 

She was still warm, her fever from earlier still present, and he wondered why she hadn't said anything before about being sick. He had been rather surprised to receive the call from the school nurse to gather the girl less than thirty minutes after having dropped her off. She had been subdued, quiet, but she hadn't acted sick, he had thought. But she had been dismissed anyway. Apparently her teacher hadn't approved of her falling asleep in class, or the fever she was addled with.

His lips pulled up to the side in a fleeting smile when Shadow whined low, the hellhound moving to rest her chin on his thigh. He scratched the beast behind her ears, taking the comfort she offered him, and watched her eyes glow red in response to his upset. The sound of soft footsteps from across the room drew his attention, and he turned his head, meeting Chloe's gaze as the woman moved toward him. She still looked tired, he thought, and held out a hand to her, inviting her to join him. He didn't say anything as she sat down next to him, and wrapped his arm around her shoulders as he pulled her close to tuck her against his side. 

Of all the people he had met since coming to the Earthly plane almost six years ago, why were these two the ones to hold power over him? How was it that they seemed to be able to command his emotions so easily? In one moment he could be calm and relaxed without a care in the world, but the very second either of them were hurt, or frightened, the Devil inside him came raging out more powerful and hungry for punishment than he could ever remember. 

"Where'd you go?" Chloe asked him softly, breaking the comfortable silence between them.

"Daniel showed up down stairs," he told her, rubbing his hand over her shoulder. "He doesn't hold his liquor well," he said, and kissed Chloe's hair when she curled closer to him.

"No, he doesn't," she agreed, her voice subdued. "Especially if he's been drinking Kraken. I can't stand the stuff at all, but it's the only thing he drinks aside from beer, or wine. Three shots in, and he doesn't remember anything that happens after."

"Three shots?" Lucifer repeated with a disbelieving chuckle that quickly turned into a rolling laugh.

"What's so funny?" she asked, turning her head to meet his dark gaze.

"He was more than half a bottle in when Maze called me down," he told her, and shook his head. "Not a nice drunk, is he?" he mused.

"No, not . . . not so much," she answered, and looked up when he touched her cheek.

"Tell me?" he asked, and looked down at the child in his arms when Chloe glanced at her daughter. "She's not going to wake anytime soon," he assured her.

She shook her head slowly before tipping her head to rest her cheek against his shoulder, taking comfort in the feel of his arm wrapping around her.

"There was one night when Trixie was about two that he got beyond drunk," she told him softly, keeping her voice low so as not to disturb her daughter. "He and the boys had been out drinking. He, Malcolm, and Paolucci found their way back to our place after going through two bottles of tequila and a bottle of Kraken. I was dressed for bed, in an old t-shirt, the noise he made had woken me. He was nothing like he is when he's sober, nowhere near it. He kept trying to get me to take off my clothes, to show Malcolm and Paolucci the prize I was," she said repeating Dan's words from that night. "He just started . . . groping me in front of them, and had my shirt off before I could break away."

Lucifer growled low, the sound angry and dangerous as his mind played through the images she'd told him and the possibilities of where it might end.

"I hit him hard enough to knock him to the floor, and chased the three of them outside with my service weapon, before locking him out for the night," she told him, and burrowed deeper into his side as she sought comfort from the memory. "He didn't remember anything after leaving the bar the night before. Just . . . nothing. He didn't even know how he'd gotten home, and maybe I was coward, but I didn't say anything to him about it. I couldn't," she told him, her voice barely a whisper, and he heard the pain and fear in her voice that the memory inspired. "The only thing I told him was that if he ever got drunk like that again, I'd take Trixie and leave. He didn't drink again after that, not until the Palmetto case."

"You loved him," he told her when she sniffled, and rested his cheek against her hair as he held her.

"God help me, I still do," she told him, cursing herself. "I'm not in love with him, I don't want to be with him again, but . . . He's Trixie's father. That has to mean something," she said, and he knew she was trying to convince herself more than she was him.

"Why?" he asked curiously. "Why does it have to mean anything?" 

Of all the many emotions, love was by far the one that confused him the most. It led humans - Hell, it led him - to doing the most stupid, self sacrificing things, while tying him up in knots of jealousy at the same time. He would do anything, give anything, just to see her smile, or laugh. But God help the bastard who hurt her, physically or otherwise, because he was the Devil, and he wouldn't show them any mercy. At every turn, her ex had hurt her, yet she seemed to cling to the idea that the life they'd shared together had to hold some kind of meaning.

"If what we had together doesn't mean anything," she began, her voice low, her tone confused and almost hurt. "Then it's like saying that Trixie doesn't mean anything. She's everything to me," she declared, her words whispered and wrought with emotion.

"What about all those mothers who became so through sperm banks?" he asked, trying to reason with her.

"They never met their child's father," she denied, and smiled sadly when Hunter whined low, the hellhound climbing up onto the couch next to her and curling against her side. "It's not the same. They made the choice to go it alone from the beginning. I thought . . ." She paused, her words falling silent as she laughed painfully. "It doesn't matter what I thought. He made it clear. It was just a lie. I - "

"Don't," he commanded her softly as he tightened his arm around her. "Don't do this to yourself, Chloe. Don't let him win."

She drew in a shaking breath as she turned her face into his shoulder, the tears filling her eyes dampening his shirt. 

"I don't know what to believe anymore," she whispered, her voice breaking on a sob. "What did I do?"

"This wasn't you, darling," he assured her. "This was him. You have nothing to be sorry for. Nothing to blame yourself for," he promised her quietly. "You say the word, and I'll make him rue the day he ever thought he was good enough for you."

She sniffled as she lifted her face from his shoulder, and met his gaze as she laughed softly through her tears.

"My fallen angel," she whispered in awe as she slid her fingers against the stubble on his cheek, cupping his face in her hand.

"You believe me?" he asked her in wonder as he stared into her eyes.

"I think I'm beginning to," she whispered back, and sniffled as she leaned in to kiss him chastely. "When you brought me here a few nights ago, after I'd been hurt, and I had my shirt off," she began her explanation. "I saw Maze's face change. It was only for a second. And I tried to convince myself I was imagining it, but then about an hour ago, I woke up and Hunter was sitting on the floor next to the bed. He nudged me awake after a rather unpleasant dream," she told him as she looked down, and petted the hound's head. "I thanked him for keeping me safe, and his eyes glowed red. Maybe I should be afraid, but I'm not," she said as she met Lucifer's gaze. "I've never been afraid of you - not like that."

"Not like that," he repeated, his eyes narrowing as he thought over her words. "That means you have been afraid of me?" he asked, and shook his head in confusion.

"The longer we worked together the more it felt like I . . . belonged with you," she said, her brow furrowing as she tried to explain to him what made so little sense to her. "Everything felt . . . right when I was with you. I felt strong, I didn't doubt myself, I . . . You made me . . . shine, and I knew - I . . ." She released a rough breath, her words breaking as she looked away for a second before meeting his gaze again. "I knew if I gave in, if I was with you and things ended badly, and I was so afraid they would, that . . . you could break me so easily. And then after Malcolm shot you, when I watched you die, I . . . The thought of living in a world where you didn't exist . . ."

Lucifer released a heavy sigh as he felt his heart constrict and burst in the same breath. He tipped his head as he captured her lips, tasted the salt of her tears. She meant more to him than he had the words to express, and with the understanding of why she'd resisted him so long, came the knowledge that she was no longer fighting her attraction to him. She wanted to be with him, and fires of Hell be damned, but he would forsake everyone and everything just to be with her.

Chloe pulled back from the kiss with a smile, and a soft laugh as she glanced down the hellhounds curled up on either side of her and Lucifer.

"Is it bad that I kind of want to watch these two scare Dan?" she asked Lucifer, and smiled when he laughed, his eyes shining with mischief.

"Not at all," he purred. "If he's still downstairs, I'm certain we could arrange something. Even make some popcorn to go with the show," he offered, and laughed when she slapped his shoulder.

"You're a horrible influence, Mr. Morningstar," she teased him as she laughed.

"I do my best," he teased back, and studied her with a soft grin. "That is a welcomed sight," he told her, and watched as she tipped her head in silent question. "It's been awhile since I've seen you smile and laugh like that."

"Only because of you," she told him sincerely, and kissed him. "So what now?" she asked him a few moments later.

"Now," he said as he took in a rolling breath. "Now, we rest here for a bit, and then in about an hour, I make us something to eat."

His brow furrowed in curiosity as she studied him, and he watched as affection and hope swirled in her eyes, the emotions producing glistening tears that hung like crystals on the tips of her dark lashes. He lifted his hand to her face, smoothing away a few fallen tears with the pad of his thumb, and kissed her brow.

"You've always done that, haven't you?" she asked him with wonder. "Even back in the beginning," she told him as he frowned in question. "Even for all your teasing, and flirting, and . . . Luciferness," she said with a smile, and bit her lip. "You've always taken care of me."

"You don't need anyone to take care of you, Detective," he told her, and tucked her hair behind her ear. "All you've ever needed is someone to stand beside you. To have faith in you. That's what partners do."

"I don't care what anyone says, Lucifer," she told him, her words softly spoken, but passionate all the same. "You're a good man."

"You'll be the death of me, I swear," he teased her when he felt his heart tighten and his breath catch. 

"I mean it, Lucifer," she insisted, and he smiled.

"I know you do, Chloe." He tucked her close against his side, and tipped his head to rest his cheek on her hair. 

It was almost an hour later when Mazikeen found them tucked together on the couch. Chloe and Lucifer were asleep, the hellhounds keeping watch over them as Trixie was beginning to wake. Helping her move carefully so as not to wake her mother, or Lucifer, Mazikeen guided the girl from the couch and smiled as Shadow moved to follow them. Once again, things were changing, and this time, Mazikeen thought, she wasn't so sure she was upset about what was coming.


	18. Chapter 17 "By the Devil's Decree"

AN: Lucifer and all recognizable characters belong to Jerry Bruckheimer and FOX television. Set post 'Take Me Back to Hell'. (Written prior to the start of season 2.)

 

Summary: There is only one thing that can make an immortal vulnerable, only one thing that can hurt an angel aside from another angel - their mate. It was only a rumor, a baseless myth, something Amenadiel had never believed in, until it happened to Lucifer.

**Memento Mori**

Chapter 17

**_"By the Devil's Decree"_ **

by WhisperingWolf

Silver patches of moonlight scattered across the floor, the patterns moving and changing with the gentle breeze that stirred the delicate curtains hung over the French doors of the balcony. Lucifer stared at the ceiling as he watched the shadows reflect off the smooth surface, their shapes changing as the moonlight danced on the floor below. Chloe lay tucked against his side, her head pillowed on his chest, as he toyed with the ends of her hair. She was beginning to believe him, the truth of the Devil he was, and he wondered how, or even if, their relationship would change because of it. 

Would she be scared of him, he wondered. What questions would she ask? Or would she ask any at all? She may have said she was beginning to believe him, but she also maintained that she knew him, the true him, and not the fable everyone made him out to be. Their dinner had been another enlightening moment for him, and amusement tipped his lips in a grin as he recalled their conversation.

_"She's not sick," Chloe said as she cut the sweet onion in half, and used the blade of the knife to remove the peel._

_Lucifer stared at her incredulously. "Her school nurse sent her home," he told her, and shook his head. "She has a fever, she isn't staying awake for very long," he recounted Trixie's symptoms, and stared at Chloe when she chuckled._

_"She's not sick," she maintained. "She's going through a growth spurt. Trixie either gets intolerably hyper, and has more energy than should be possible," she explained to him as she sliced the onion before chopping it into small pieces. "Or," she said, stressing the word as she met his gaze pointedly, "she gets a low fever, and sleeps off and on for a few days. If this growth spurt plays out like her last one did, and it's looking like it will, in two months from now she'll have grown three inches, and none of her clothes will fit her properly anymore."_

_"A growth spurt?" he repeated dumbly._

_"Mmhmm," Chloe hummed with amusement. "We're lucky she hit it on the weekend. You'll see. She started getting tired a few days ago, but has only been exhausted like this today. In a week, or so, she'll be back to normal."_

The low whine near the door caught his attention, and he turned his head to see Shadow standing just inside the room. His brows quirked in amused curiosity when he saw her tail wagging slowly, and watched as she dipped her head down. He chuckled before he could silence the sound, and shook his head before nodding for the hellhound to come to him. At some point in the night, Trixie had either rolled off her bed, or moved from it to lie on top of her hellhound. Instead of staying with the child on the floor, or moving her back to her bed, Shadow had brought her charge to him.

Easing his arm out from underneath Chloe, he turned toward the hound standing at the side of his bed, and sat up to lift the sleeping child from her back. Shadow whined low again, the sound a happy kind of sing-song, and wagged her tail before moving over to curl up against Hunter. Hunter groaned as he opened his eyes, his tail thumping softly against the floor, and lifted his head. Shadow curled against him, making a soft chuffing sound as she laid her head down over his front legs, and Hunter laid his head down across her shoulders. 

These two were the only ones of his hellhounds that were a bonded pair. They tracked and hunted alongside each other, always working as a unit instead of alone. While hellhounds may not have pups as mortal dogs would, these two were as close as any mated pair could be. It was why Mazikeen had chosen them to guard Chloe and Trixie, and why he had always preferred to have them as his personal hounds inside of Hell. The other beasts he had could be sent out on their own, but these two always stayed with him, hunted with him and Mazikeen.

Sighing as he rolled his eyes in a mix of amusement and resignation, Lucifer found it easier to simply lay Trixie on his chest than to try and lay her in the bed on the other side of her mother. The child groaned softly in her sleep as she curled closer to him, and tucked her head under his chin. Moving slowly, he slipped his arm under Chloe, grinning softly as the woman rolled toward him, and curled back into his side. She moved easily in her sleep, reclaiming her place with her head on his chest. 

"Lucifer?" Chloe mumbled softly as her eyes opened slowly. "When did Trixie climb into bed with us?"

"A few minutes ago," he told her, turning his head to kiss her hair. "Shadow brought her in. She was asleep on her back."

Chloe chuckled softly at his words, and lifted her hand to tuck her daughter's hair back from her face. Smoothing her hand down over her daughter's hair, Chloe snuggled closer to Lucifer and wrapped her arm over her daughter's back, hugging both the child and Lucifer to her. He watched her lips tug up at the corner in a hint of a smile as he toyed with the ends of her hair, her eyes blinking slowly before she returned to sleep. 

It never took much to soothe her back to sleep, if she woke during the night. Toying with the ends of her hair as he was now, telling her of a memory from a time long past, or singing to her, all of these things worked flawlessly to gentle her back into her world of dreams. He had learned a while ago that Chloe slept less, or not at all, if she didn't feel safe, and the deeper they dug into this mess of corruption, the less safe she felt. Her nightmares hadn't resurfaced since she had discovered the house she had been held in, and for that he was eternally thankful. He kissed her hair as he lifted his right arm from where he'd had his hand tucked underneath his pillow, and wrapped his arm around Trixie. 

They were with him, he reminded himself as he cast his eyes over the woman and child in his arms. They were safe, and well guarded. His gaze moved across the room to the space in front of the open French doors where his two hellhounds lay curled together in a mountain of black fur. How many times had he shared his bed in the main suite of his penthouse with other humans, yet not once had he ever felt the same sense of peace and contentment as he did now. Had anyone told him that he would find happiness with a woman and her child, he would have laughed in their faces, but the truth of it couldn't be denied.

He looked up at the feel of another presence, his eyes meeting Mazikeen's as she moved to sit on the side of the bed behind Chloe. Arching a brow in silent question, he frowned in confusion when she shook her head. She knew exactly what he was asking her, if she had carried out Daniel's punishment, and for her to say no was unlike her. He watched as her eyes settled on Chloe, the expression on her face somewhere between angry and concerned. He knew that for as much trouble as he was having understanding his growing emotions, it was even worse for Mazikeen. She was a demon, she had never expected to feel anything at all, except a desire to exact pain and punishment.

"He's too drunk now for any punishment to have any kind of effect on him," Mazikeen said softly, her eyes on Chloe's sleeping face. 

"What?" Lucifer asked as he looked between Mazikeen and Chloe. 

"When you put Trixie to bed earlier," she told him. "Chloe told me you'd told her that Dan was downstairs with me. She actually apologized to me for him," she said, and shook her head as her jaw moved, her teeth scraping over each other. "Whatever he did to her, whatever he said, and she wasn't concerned with how she felt, but with what he may have said to me."

"And that bothers you?" he asked her curiously. 

Mazikeen met his gaze fiercely. "You told me what he did - what he _said_ to her - while she was in the shower," she reminded him, a low growl coloring her words. "With _all_ of that," she said, and growled low, "and she was still worried about how _he_ had treated _me_."

"She's a pure heart, Maze," Lucifer reminded her. "She considers you a friend. It's only natural she would be worried. But that's not what's really bothering you is it?" he asked as he studied her through narrowed eyes.

"How many times did she have to apologize for _him_?" she asked, her words tight with anger. "How many times was he belligerent, or abusive towards her that we _don't_ know about? And with what he said - that it wasn't until Trixie was _three_ that he actually started to have feelings for her - for them? He still doesn't respect her in any manner," she said, and met Lucifer's gaze. 

"She's here with us now, Maze," he reminded her, their voices kept low in deference to the sleeping mortals. "She is protected. And as an added bonus, we have not only the opportunity, but the obligation to punish Daniel for what he's done to her. To them both," he said, and watched her frown as her gaze snapped to the child sleeping on his chest. "He made Beatrice feel unwanted. Through his constant dismissal of her and his inattention to her, he made her feel as though she had done something to displease him. He made her believe that she had been bad, that she had to atone in some manner to be deserving of his affection."

Mazikeen growled low as she reached out to touch the child's hair. She had befriended Trixie first, and then her mother later. To know that the child had been hurt in that manner was almost worse than if Dan had hit her. What he had done made her constantly question her worth to him, and in doing so, he had made her question her worth to others. She looked up when Lucifer cleared his throat, and frowned in confusion when he nodded to the bed. 

"Lie down with us," he offered her. "You and I may not sleep very much, but there is a certain amount of comfort to be gained from being near them while they sleep," he told her, and she nodded. 

Mazikeen moved to sit against the headboard behind Chloe, her legs stretched out on the bed in front of her and crossed at the ankles. She folded her hands in her lap as she leaned her head back against the wall behind her, only to turn her head and meet Lucifer's gaze with a lazy grin. She chuckled low as her eyes sparkled with wicked humor.

"He was still passed out when I left him," she told Lucifer, and watched him frown when she chuckled. "I didn't leave him alone," she told him, and pulled in a slow breath, the air hissing as it passed between her teeth. "Amenadiel's with him. He wanted to know why I was upset that Dan was passed out. When I told him, he told me that he was more than happy to watch over Dan until he woke. I can only imagine the anger he holds for him."

"Mazie, you little devil," Lucifer purred. "Is it your intention to use Daniel as Amenadiel's first lesson in delivering punishment?" he asked with a delighted grin, his eyes glinting dangerously.

"Considering that his punishment will be mild by comparison to what we normally do, I figured it would be a good introduction," she mused with a satisfied smile. "And as he's become closer to Trixie, he's also grown closer to Chloe. This punishment will be personal. And the personal ones . . . "

"Always taste better," Lucifer finished with a hungry smile. 

"You know," Mazikeen almost sang the words as she looked at Lucifer. "Trixie asked the most interesting question at the zoo the other day."

"Oh?" he asked, wondering if he should be amused, or worried.

"Yes," she purred, and smiled when Lucifer arched his brow in silent question. "I think she has hopes for you and Chloe."

"Maze," Lucifer all but growled her name, irritated at her game of keep away with the secret she was toying with. "What did our young Beatrice ask?"

"She wanted to know . . ." She teased him, as she paused. "If angels get married."

**~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~**

Chloe looked up from the papers in front of her, the pen held in between her teeth, and frowned at the manila envelope Lucifer held out to her. Taking the pen from her mouth, she set it aside and reached for the package as the man sat next to her at the table. He didn't speak, which was odd for someone who almost always had something to say, and she felt her chest tighten as she looked at the sender information on the envelope. 

"Forensic scientist owed me a favor," he told her, and she blinked quickly when she realized she'd been staring at the FBI Crime Lab label. "I knew she could be trusted."

"I don't understand," Chloe said, and shook her head in confusion as she met his gaze. 

"The house, Detective," he said, and took in a deep breath as he nodded to the envelope in her hands. "You needed answers, and I knew that those answers needed to come from someone we could trust."

Her brow furrowed as she stared at the envelope in her hands. Closing her eyes as she tried to push back the edge of fear that clawed at her mind, she felt Lucifer's hand on hers, and nodded her thanks at his silent reminder that she wasn't alone. He was always there, right beside her, and no matter what happened, she knew he wouldn't let her lose herself to the horrors of this case. Turning the package over, she pinched the metal brackets together, and lifted the edge of the taped down flap.

The report contained inside was thick, at least fifty pages by her estimation. There were crime scene photos, property reports, copies of evidence reports. On top of it all, was a handwritten letter with a business card. Chloe frowned as she looked at the letter, her eyes taking in the pattern of the flowing script before she read through the message.

_Lucifer,_

_I don't know how you found this place, or what led you to it. You weren't exactly forth coming with any of those details, but after I went through the house with my team, I had to call this in. This is bigger than you, or I. I think this house is the key my guys have been looking for in a kidnapping case from nineteen seventy-five. Be careful, Lucifer. The people who used this place have kept it hidden for more than thirty years. I did everything possible to keep your name out of any of the records, but if anything happens, anything at all, call the agent on that card I gave you. He's a good friend, and I trust him._

_Josephine Marks_

"Chloe," Lucifer spoke her name with a touch of humor, and she turned to him with a curious frown. "The card," he said, and held up the thick white business card between two fingers, the name turned toward her. "Special Agent Robert Grace," he read aloud.

"Bobby," Chloe said, and shook her head as she laughed softly. 

"Seems we may have an ace up our sleeves," he told her with an arch of his brow.

"I guess so," she agreed with a smile.

**~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~**

It was hard to wake up. He felt heavy, almost too heavy to move, and he could feel _everything_. He could feel each strand of his hair, from the top of his head to the smallest hairs on his legs. The room around him was spinning, or was it just him? The thought that he could feel the rotation of the earth made him dizzy and weak. His mouth was dry, and fuzzy. He grimaced at the taste left behind, as though something had died in his mouth while he'd slept. 

His eyes were dry, scratchy, as he blinked with difficulty. Confusion filled his mind as he stared at the darkness surrounding him, clouding his vision, and he pushed his hands underneath him as he tried to rise. A floor, he thought as he fell back to the ground, his head smacking against the dark polished stone floor of LUX. Dan groaned as he pressed his hand against his head as he rolled onto his back. He frowned as he caught sight of a pair of legs on the edge of his field of vision, and followed the expensive fabric up to their owner.

"Daniel," Lucifer purred in greeting as he stood looking down on him. 

His expression was calm, pleasant even, Dan thought, but his eyes were almost happily mean. Dan frowned as he turned over, and felt his stomach rebel as he struggled unsteadily to his feet. There was a cup of coffee waiting on the bar, untouched and steaming with the heat of the liquid. His balance gave way, and he stumbled the last few steps until he was gripping the barstool in a white knuckled grip. He pulled himself up to sit at the bar slowly, and grabbed the mug, scalding liquid splashing on his hand as he brought the coffee to his lips.

"So, tell me, Daniel," Lucifer said from behind him as he stepped closer, and Dan swore the room seemed to get darker as the man came up behind him. "What all do you remember about yesterday?"

"Yesterday?" he croaked, blinking quickly as he tried to pull up any memories at all from the day before.

"Yes," Lucifer hissed in his ear as he moved to sit in the chair beside him. "Tell me, do you remember what you said to Chloe?" he asked, and Dan blanched as the memory resurfaced. "Ah, so you do. That is good then. It'll be a starting point at the very least."

"Starting point?" he asked as he turned his head to look at Lucifer, and wished instantly that he hadn't.

The club owner's eyes flashed red, even as the same politely pleasant expression remained on his face. Images from the night before, fuzzy and just a touch out of focus came to him, and he remembered seeing the same flash of red in the man's eyes last night. He felt a cold chill run up his spine as Lucifer leaned in, the man seeming to hone in on the spark of recognition that must have been in his eyes.

"Daniel," Lucifer spoke in low smooth tones, capturing the man under the power of his influence. "Tell me the truth, Daniel," he commanded in a hypnotic purr. "What. Do you. Remember. About. Last night?" he asked slowly, pausing between words as he did his best to restrain his rapidly escalating temper.

Dan's voice changed, the edges of hesitation lost as he spoke in a low distracted tone. Lucifer's teeth scraped against each other as the man spoke of meeting Mazikeen at The Paddock, and of following her back to LUX. The shadows bent around him, closing in on the mortal as Dan revealed the thought that if nothing else, he might get lucky with the bartender. A growl from behind him drew his attention, his power over Dan breaking away as he turned his head to look at his demon.

She shrugged and tipped her head, and he shook his head at the interruption as he sighed. Turning back to the man in front of him, he met Dan's startled gaze. He knew that Dan had made Chloe believe he was a blackout drunk, that he didn't remember anything, and that was how he had always gotten away with everything. He stood from his chair and leaned in toward Dan, enclosing him against the bar with a hand on either side. They were close enough that Lucifer's nose brushed against the tip of Dan's, his eyes burning red at the very center.

" _You_ ," Lucifer said in a low growl, the shadows closing in around them like a death shroud. " _Malcolm Graham_ . . . _Anthony Paolucci_ . . . " he spoke their names as he used the last remaining vestiges of his control to keep his rage in check. " _Nigh on six years ago_ . . . _Did. You. Remember?_ "

"Yes," Dan replied in a frightened whisper.

"Yet you led her to believe you _didn't remember_ a thing," Lucifer growled low.

"Yes," Dan squeaked.

" _Why?_ " Lucifer demanded.

"Because if she thought I didn't remember, she'd never bring it up, or blame me for it," Dan answered honestly, frightened beyond the ability to lie.

"How many times, _Daniel_?" Lucifer asked, his voice dangerous and quiet. "How many times did you get drunk, and let Chloe believe you didn't remember whatever you had done, just so you could get away with it?"

"A lot," he answered, his voice an unsteady whisper.

"And Beatrice?" Lucifer asked, watching as Dan's fear turned to irritation and impatience.

"I never wanted her!" Dan snapped. "Chloe decided to get pregnant with her, so she was her responsibility, not mine."

Lucifer's eyes glowed red, the crimson light burning out from within, filling his eyes from edge to edge. The shadows bent closer, darkness licking at the mortal in front of him like a hungry beast, before snapping back as they were pushed away to their proper place. The light of the club returned to normal, Dan clearly shaken by the encounter, as Lucifer stood away slowly. The suave gentleman was back, the club owner who appeared pleasant and curious, but Dan had seen the devil within. Never again would he look at Lucifer without the ice cold fingers of fear gripping his heart and freezing his breath.

"Hunter," Lucifer called out pleasantly, as he turned to look at the hellhound tasked with protecting Chloe. "This mortal has hurt your charge. Guard him while I am gone," he commanded, and smiled at the sound of Dan's startled gasp. 

"What the hell is that thing?!" Dan shouted as he pushed back against the bar behind him in an attempt to get away from the horse-sized animal.

"He's a hellhound," Lucifer said simply, a slow grin tipping his lips. "To Chloe, he is a companion, a guardian. To Beatrice, a friend. To you, Daniel, Hunter is the most dangerous creature you will ever encounter. We'll be off now," he said, and turned to Amenadiel and Mazikeen. "Let him marinate," he whispered as he passed between them, and they turned to follow him.

" _He played her_ ," Mazikeen growled low as she and Amenadiel followed him into the elevator. "He made her believe he didn't remember any of it."

"I know, Maze," Lucifer said, arching a curious brow at his brother when Amenadiel remained silent. "You have questions."

Amenadiel offered a shallow nod. "No permanent harm. No broken bones. No open wounds. No killing him. These are your edicts, brother. How do you propose we punish him properly?"

"That will be decided later," Lucifer said. "First," he said as the elevator announced their arrival, "we talk to Chloe. Her reaction to the truth of Daniel's deception shall be our guide."

The fire of his rage calmed as his eyes swept over the penthouse, his gaze settling on Chloe where she sat on the floor in front of the low coffee table. Papers were spread out around her, the information on them all encoded, and he stepped closer as he watched her writing the translation of the code on the legal pad in her hands. The ease with which she moved through it amused him, as much as it intrigued him. The intelligence Beatrice had surprised them with appeared to be derived entirely from her mother, and he smiled at the knowledge of it.

"Hello, darling," Lucifer greeted Chloe as he slipped between the table and couch, sitting opposite of her at the table. 

"Hey," Chloe greeted, and looked up from the papers she had been working with, only to still when her gaze met his. "What is it?" she asked him, and Lucifer arched his brow in silent question. "You're angry," she told him, and he snorted softly as a smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

"You always know," he said curiously, amused at how easily she had always been able to read him.

"It's in your eyes," she told him, and frowned. "What's wrong?"

"Come sit with me, darling," he bid of her, and watched her frown as she set the legal pad and pen on top of the papers before moving to sit next to him. He turned his head to kiss her temple as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, and tucked her into his side. "Daniel is awake downstairs," he told her, and rubbed her arm when he felt her stiffen. "He revealed something to me that you should know," he said with a slow sigh. "As much as I know it will have the power to hurt you, I would be remiss not to tell you."

"I don't want you to hide things from me," she told him, and he hugged her close for a moment, before easing his hold.

"And I won't," he told her. "I've never lied to , and I won't start now," he promised her. "Daniel was quite inebriated last night, passed out drunk even," he told her, and looked down to meet her gaze when he felt her turn her head up. "He remembers, Chloe," he told her, and watched her frown. "He's not a blackout drunk. He led you to believe he was in order to not face any consequences for his actions."

Her gaze fell from his, and he watched the space between her brows furrow as she processed what he'd said. He rubbed his hand over her shoulder as he breathed in, and kissed her hair as he felt her press closer to him without seeming to realize that she was doing so. Every memory she had of Dan was being turned over and torn inside out, yet again. He felt her tremble, and looked down to see the glisten of tears on her dark lashes. He refused to lie to her, refused to keep anything hidden from her, but knowing that he had kept his promise to always tell her the truth didn't make him feel like any less of an ass for having done so. 

"All those times," she said, her voice shaking with a combination of anger and pain. "The things he did, the things he said," she whispered, and Lucifer knew she was talking to herself more than she was to him. "He . . . "

Lucifer watched Chloe shake her head, her face a mask of anger, even as her blue eyes were darkened by the pain of her ex's continued betrayal. She didn't say anything as she stood from the couch, and he followed her as she stepped through the penthouse. He was curious when her gaze met Mazikeen's and watched as his demon arched her brow before nodding and following Chloe to the elevator. Mazikeen held her hand against the door, keeping it open as he and Amenadiel stepped into the metal car with her and Chloe. 

Neither of them spoke as Mazikeen reached out and pressed the button for LUX. Moving to stand next to Chloe, Lucifer moved his hand to brush his fingers against hers, and felt her lace her fingers with his as she held his hand. He curled his fingers against her hand, squeezing gently before loosening his hold to a relaxed grip, and met her unsteady smile as he offered her his strength. He knew she was angry, there was no way that she wouldn't be, but he also knew that she was hurting. How many lies would be revealed? How many times had Dan betrayed her?

The doors opened, and he felt her hand slide from his as she stepped out of the elevator first. He followed a few steps behind as Mazikeen and Amenadiel walked behind them side by side. The deadly snarling drew his attention, and he looked across the club to see Dan lying on his back on the floor. Hunter stood above him, the mortal man held down with a giant paw in the middle of his chest. The hellhound's eyes were blazing red, his jaws spread wide and lips curled in a vicious snarl as he stared down at the terrified man.

"Hunter," Chloe called to the hell beast, and Lucifer watched as the beast's anger disappeared in an instant. 

"Chloe, no!" Dan shouted as Hunter trotted quickly to her side, his tail wagging as he greeted her. "What?" he said breathlessly in confusion as he stared at the woman and her hellhound.

Lucifer chucked quietly as Chloe petted Hunter, scratching him behind his ears before hugging his large head to her chest. She bent over him, kissing the top of his head as she rested her cheek against the top of his head between his pointed ears. Hunter turned his head, his tongue dragging against her cheek in a welcomed greeting, and Chloe laughed softly, as Lucifer stepped up to her side. 

"As I told you before, Daniel," Lucifer said with satisfaction. "Hunter is a companion to Chloe. He's very gentle with her. Far more deserving of her affection than you ever were."

Lucifer watched as Chloe petted Hunter once more before stepping away from the beast. A faithful guardian to the end, Hunter walked by her side as she stepped across the room to confront her ex-husband. She shook her head as she looked at the man, and Lucifer watched as her fists clenched by her sides.

"You knew?" he heard Chloe ask, and moved to stand against the bar in order to see her face as she spoke with Dan. "You never blacked out?" Chloe asked him, shaking her head as she clenched her jaw in a mix of pain and anger. "That night with Malcolm and Paolucci, the night you . . . you remembered all of that?"

"If I could take it back," Dan began, and Chloe slapped him.

"You can't take it back," she said tightly, her voice full of pain. "Everything you hid from me, all the _lies_ you told me. The . . . " She fell silent, stopping herself from saying any more as she shook her head, and stepped back from him. " _Why?!_ "

"Chloe," Dan began, and then sighed. "Does it really matter?" he asked after a moment of silence, and Lucifer watched as Chloe pulled back as though she'd been struck. 

"How much of it was real, Dan?" Chloe demanded, and Lucifer arched a brow silently as he sipped at a glass of scotch and waited for the man's answer.

"Chloe," Dan said as though he were speaking to a child. "We're separated. _You_ left _me_ , remember? You don't get to play the victim in this."

A choked sound came from her throat, her jaw moving, but no words coming from her parted lips. Disbelief and anger warred in her expression as her blue eyes glistened with tears of betrayal. Lucifer watched her move, seeming to be stunned by her own actions, as she struck Dan with her fist hard enough to make him stagger back. She turned away from him, her hand lifting to cover her mouth, and Lucifer watched as Hunter stared at Dan, making the mortal man back away as his lips curled up in an angry snarl to reveal sharp white teeth.

Setting his glass aside, Lucifer stepped into Chloe's path and met her gaze when she looked up at him. The vulnerability in her gaze torn at him, clawing at his heart even as it pulled forth the devil within to avenge her pain. Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled her close, and kissed her brow as she returned his embrace. He stroked his hand down over her hair, before framing her face in his hands and looked into her eyes. He knew she wanted to return to the penthouse, unable to stay near Dan any longer, and nodded once before he released her, watching her as she walked back toward the elevator.

"Hunter," Lucifer called to the beast, and watched as the hellhound turned his head back to look at him. "Stay with her," he commanded in a soft voice, and watched as Hunter moved instantly to take his place by Chloe's side. "Tell me, Daniel," Lucifer said once the elevator doors had closed around Chloe and her hellhound. "Did you truly believe there would never be any repercussions for your actions? For the way you treated Chloe?"

"You know what?" Dan said with irritation, and threw his arms up as he turned away. "I'm done with this. You want to play the hero, fine. But I'm not sticking around just to be - "

"To be what?" Lucifer asked, his tone steady and almost devoid of emotion as he stared at the man in anger. "For all the hurt that you have caused both her, and Beatrice, and you truly believed there would be no fallout?"

"And what?" Dan snapped back, feigning bravery as he met Lucifer's anger with impatience. "You think you're the one to decide that?"

"I am the Devil, Detective," Lucifer said as his eyes flashed crimson. "I punish the guilty. And _you_ , dear _Daniel_ , are ever so guilty." He stepped closer as Amenadiel circled around to stand behind the mortal, Mazikeen circling the three of them slowly like a hungry shark as she stared at Dan. "You _willfully_ humiliated and betrayed Chloe time after time. She is a pure soul. She is innocent, and yet at every turn, you saw fit to exact your own punishment on her."

"So what, you're a demon?" Dan scoffed, and looked to Mazikeen when she chuckled darkly.

"He's an angel. Fallen, perhaps, but still an angel," Mazikeen said, and let her true face show. " _I'm_ a demon, and even I'm disgusted by what you've done."

"Devils and angels and demons," Dan scoffed, as he tried to deny what he was seeing, what he had already seen. "You're all insane."

"No," Amenadiel said, spreading his wings when Dan turned to look at him. "We're not. Chloe is protected by me," he said, his eyes flashing white hot as thunder sounded outside with his anger. "By Lucifer," he said as Lucifer moved to stand by his side, and allowed his devil side to show in full as Mazikeen moved to stand in front of and between them both. "By Mazikeen, the most feared demon of Hell," Amenadiel finished as Mazikeen allowed her true side to show. 

"When you die," Mazikeen purred out as she stepped close enough to trail her fingers over the line of Dan's jaw. "And one day you will, _we_ will be there to welcome you to Hell. And _we will_ repay you time and again for everything you have done to Chloe and Trixie. And believe me," she purred as she leaned close to whisper seductively in his ear. "We can be _very_ creative."

The stubborn disbelief that had kept Dan from breaking under the truth of all he was seeing finally snapped, and he shook as he stumbled back, staring at them all in horror and terror. Lucifer stepped close, gripping Dan by his shirt as he drug him effortlessly to stand nose to nose with him. He stepped back just enough to backhand Dan, sending the mortal to floor, and stared at him with disdain.

"That was for Chloe," he said, and pulled Dan to his feet by the grip he had on his shirt. "And this," he said as he punched Dan hard. "Is for Beatrice. We will be in your dreams when you sleep at night. We will be in the shadows that play on the edges of your vision."

"We will be there in the whispers you barely hear," Mazikeen added, circling around Dan. "You may not always see us, but you _will_ feel us."

"Know that the _only reason_ you are not being torn apart where you stand," Lucifer told him, "is because of _them_. If I didn't believe it would hurt both Chloe and Beatrice to see you dead, I would kill you where you stand. For now, however, we shall break you as you attempted to break _her_. Before you die, however your death may come about, your mind will betray you first. Everything you've ever known, every thought and belief you've ever held to be true, will be turned inside out until you no longer know _who_ you are. Enjoy the remainder of your life, Daniel," Lucifer said as he stepped back, Mazikeen and Amenadiel following his lead as they hid the truth of what they each were, the shadows once more returning the background. "And known that one day, we will be the only truth you know."


	19. Chapter 18

AN: Lucifer and all recognizable characters belong to Jerry Bruckheimer and FOX television. Set post 'Take Me Back to Hell'. (Written prior to the start of season 2.)

 

Summary: There is only one thing that can make an immortal vulnerable, only one thing that can hurt an angel aside from another angel - their mate. It was only a rumor, a baseless myth, something Amenadiel had never believed in, until it happened to Lucifer.

**Memento Mori**

Chapter 18

by WhisperingWolf

Lucifer closed his eyes as he watched the door of the club slam shut, and felt only the barest sense of satisfaction for the punishment they had enacted on Dan. There was so much more he wanted to do to the man, but it wasn't the lack of a more violent end that held him teetering on the edge of his rage. He took in a deep breath as he moved through the club and up the stairs to the elevator. Chloe was hurting. She had been hurting for a while, and learning the truth about Dan, he feared, would only make everything so much worse. 

Mazikeen and Amenadiel stayed down in the club below. He knew they had both desired time alone with each other. Growing closer may have been a moment of passion, an opening to gain information, but he had watched it become something so much more to both of them. The funniest part of it all was that neither one of them could see how deeply they were entwined with each other. Mazikeen had sacrificed to save Amenadiel's life, and time and again, he had seen Amenadiel stand in defense of Mazikeen. If they could see what he saw, he was fairly certain they would both run in opposite directions. 

He shook his head as he stepped into his penthouse, and frowned to see Chloe back in the same place he had found her before. She had told him once that she had survived her youth with her sanity intact by focusing on something else. Was that what she was doing now, he wondered. But there was something else, he thought with a frown. There was a sense of urgency to the way she moved through the papers, a kind of desperation that left her face pale, her eyes wide, and her breaths unsteady.

"Chloe?" he called to her as he stepped across the room to her. "What is it?" he asked when she looked up at him with an expression that was both frightened and triumphant.

"I know why they killed Evangeline," she told him, and he watched her shake her head as tears glistened in her eyes. "She went to Germany two years ago, on her own, to verify that the girl she had been led to was in fact Sophia. This," she said as she handed him several papers written in the same numeric code, "is a transcript of a recording she made. She _talked_ with Sophia. Sophia kept getting mad that Evangeline was calling her Boudicca - the name the German family gave her." She pointed to the third sheet, a section in the middle. "She asked Sophia what she wanted to be called. Sophia told her 'call me Sophia, that's my name'. Lucifer she never forgot," Chloe told him. "She _never_ forgot. She told Evangeline her mother's name - Olivia Cardman . . . " Chloe fell silent as she folded her lips in between her teeth and pressed down in an effort to keep her tears at bay. 

"This was two years ago," Lucifer argued with a shake of his head, his brows furrowed in confusion. "She was killed less than a month ago."

"When she was in Germany, she gave Sophia a booklet for the International High School here in L.A.," Chloe told him, and he frowned to see the tiny tremors in her hands, from excitement, or something else, he wasn't sure. "She must have convinced her parents to let her attend. Lucifer, Sophia's here in L.A.," she said, and handed him another sheet, this one a computer print out with the school's letterhead at the top. "She was able to get her hands on the school's roster for the orientation that took place two months ago. Sophia is _here_. Evangeline _bumped into her_ at a coffee shop near the school," she said, making it clear she believed the encounter to be no random accident. "Sophia remembered her. Sophia wants to go home, to _Olivia_ , as much as Evangeline wanted to reunite them both."

"They killed her because she was about break everything wide open," Lucifer said, his eyes wide as Chloe nodded. "The people who adopted her?"

"They have no idea at all," Chloe said, and handed him the legal pad with the translation she had made. "None of the 'adopted families' had any idea at all where the children came from. They were told the kids were orphans, or abandoned, or any number of things. The only ones who knew the truth were those who bought the kids as sex slaves, drug mules, or arms traffickers. We have a chance to fix this," she whispered the last few words as a single tear escaped her eyes to fall down her cheek. "I called Olivia while you were . . ." Chloe looked down, before blinking and looking back up at him. "She's on her way over. I didn't feel right telling her over the phone."

Lucifer nodded, and stepped closer to offer her a hand up. "Do me a favor," he asked her as he helped her to her feet, and Chloe tipped her head curiously. "Go take off your makeup."

"What?" Chloe asked in confusion as she stood in front of him, their hands still joined.

"She needs to see," he told her, and touched the edge of her jaw, the injury to her face hidden by her makeup. "This case is a danger to you, regardless of whether you stop, or not, she needs to see the danger you're in."

"Everything's moving so fast now," she told him, and he frowned in confusion. "Three months," she told him, and released a harsh sigh. "I've been looking into all of this for only three months, and once I found the connection, everything started falling like dominoes. I feel like I'm barely keeping ahead of the tidal wave. If I slow down, even for a second . . . "

His lips pulled up at the corners in a shallow smile, and he nodded once as he released an amused breath. He could understand the sentiment, he thought. The night so long ago with Malcolm had been the tipping point, and everything that followed after had seemed to move too fast to keep track of. He pulled her closer, wrapping her in his arms as he held her, and smiled when he felt her arms wrap around his waist. 

"I'll keep you safe, Chloe," he vowed softly, and looked down when he felt her turn her head up.

"You always do," she whispered in return, her eyes locked with his as her fingertips ghosted along his jaw line.

His breath misted over his lips as he dipped his head down to capture her mouth with his. She whimpered as she pressed closer, and he groaned as he wrapped his arm around her back. She tasted like strawberries and whiskey, sweet and strong. It was a heady combination that he couldn't get enough of. He pressed closer as she leaned into him, and he lifted her easily, his hands cupped under her bottom. She wrapped her legs around his trim waist as her hands tangled in his hair. 

He broke their kiss with a breathless chuckle and buried his face in the curve of her throat, gasping when she tightened her legs around him to rub her denim covered center against him, only to hiss in appreciation when she dipped her head to nip at his neck. The fire between them burned hotter, and he wanted her, body and soul, but he pulled back as he gently set her on her feet. She looked at him with confusion, and he smiled as he kissed her lips chastely.

"Believe me, I _want_ to," he told her, and licked his lips. "But we won't be alone for very much longer," he said, and chuckled when Chloe blushed. "I don't think I'll ever tire of that," he told her, and brushed the side of his bent finger over her pinked cheek. "Go on," he bid her softly, and watched the wistful smile that bent her lips as she walked away.

Lucifer rubbed his hand over his face as he watched her disappear into the hallway. They grew closer each day, slept next to each other each night, but it was the stolen kisses that were doing him in. Each kiss was more passionate than the last. He laughed at himself when he realized that had been their third kiss. Three kisses and she had completely devastated him. What would become of him when they finally took the next step? 

"Must have been some kiss," Mazikeen mused behind him, and he turned to find her leaning back against the bar. "I don't remember _you_ ever being quite so fascinated with, or willing to initiate kissing a mortal as you are with her," she told him with a lazy grin as she pushed away from the bar. 

He hummed his reply, his brows quirking in amused curiosity as he nodded. It had always been there, he thought. Even back in the beginning. There was a kind of magnetic chemistry that kept him going back to her time and again. Even when she refused him, and deflected his advances, he couldn't be away from her. She was too much a part of him to let her go, and he sighed as he shook his head. 

"I'm not fool enough to believe in _His_ benevolence," Lucifer said as he met Mazikeen's gaze. "But there are times it feels like she was made for me."

"Maybe she was," Mazikeen returned with a shrug, her expression somewhere between fascinated and amused. "Maybe Amenadiel was made for me," she said with a chuckle. "Every time I think I can stay away from him, I can't. Every time I think I can go back to the me I was before him, I find that I don't want to."

"Love," Lucifer scoffed, and smiled when Mazikeen laughed.

"How do we protect them?" she asked him, the fierce warrior showing in her eyes, even as her voice remained somehow vulnerable. "Your mother won't stop until everything you love is dead."

"I know," he said, and sighed heavily. "There hasn't been anything new on the searches. Wherever she's hiding, she's doing a damn good job of keeping unseen."

"What if she's being smart about it?" Chloe asked, and they both turned to face her.

"What do you mean?" Lucifer asked as he looked at her, studying the bruises that marred her face, her skin clean of any makeup, or concealer.

"You said she gets power from whispering to people, making them kill themselves, or others," Chloe said thoughtfully as she stepped closer to them. "What if she's going after the people who are already prone for that? Can she sense if someone is already suicidal, or may be prone to attack others?"

"You think she's killing without raising red flags," he summarized with wonder, and nodded slowly. "Smart," he said with reluctant respect. "Any ideas for finding her hunting grounds?" he asked, and sighed when Chloe shook her head. "I didn't think so. Smart enough to stay hidden. Smart enough to hunt willing victims."

"It really is smart," Chloe agreed. "We could run a search for deaths by suicide, or domestic violence, but there would be no way to distinguish what happened between being her, and simply being a natural escalation of a previously reported pattern. That, and we're only able to search for the reported deaths. If the bodies aren't found, or the violence isn't reported, there would be nothing to lead us to her."

The ding of the elevator interrupted their conversation, and Chloe turned to watch as Olivia stepped out of the elevator. Lucifer glanced at Chloe's face before looking up and sighing at the sight of his brother next to the police woman. He could understand her need to not be alone in this, but why did she had to bring Gabriel? His brother may understand the truth now, but it didn't make his presence any more tolerable than it had been before. 

Lucifer blinked and looked down at the small hand twined with his. He didn't know when she had woken, but Trixie was standing next to him, her teddy bear devil tucked in her other arm. Shadow stood next to her, the hellhound looking up at him with her head tipped to the side curiously as she moved to sit on her haunches. Sighing as he shook his head, Lucifer leaned down and lifted Trixie in his arms, holding her to his shoulder as she tucked herself against his chest. 

"Now, that's just adorable," Olivia said, her darker emotions melting away when she saw Lucifer holding Trixie. 

"Trixie's pretty much adopted him," Chloe said with a touch of amusement as she looked at the pair, before turning back to look at her boss.

"What the _hell_ happened to you?" Olivia demanded, keeping her voice low in deference to the child, but her tone fierce and angry. 

"It was a warning," Chloe said, seeing the barely there flash of white light in Gabriel's eyes that he tried to hide. "The people involved with this . . . case," she said for lack of a better description as to what it all was, "want me to back off."

"When did this happen?" her boss demanded as she stalked toward her.

"Two days ago," Chloe admitted with a sigh. "Inside evidence lock up."

"This happened at the station?!" she demanded in an angry whisper, her eyes darting to Trixie to make certain she hadn't woken the child.

"Yes," Chloe said. "I didn't see his face, and I didn't recognize his voice, but his shoes were standard issue. Whoever he is . . ."

"He's a beat cop," Olivia finished with a nod, and caught sight of Lucifer's frown. "Uniformed officer," she clarified, and he nodded. "Two days ago?" she asked, and frowned.

"I know," Chloe said with a nod. "That's about the same time you got a call from the chief about Dan, wasn't it?" she asked, and Olivia met her steady gaze with wide eyes. "Dan and I . . . had a talk about that."

"That doesn't sound good," Olivia said, and Chloe shook her head. 

"It wasn't," she said, and nodded. "But I have something that might be. Come have a seat with me," she said. "I've got a lot to show you."

**~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~**

Lucifer stood watching as Chloe and Olivia moved to sit on the couch. They would be awhile, and though he wanted to be with Chloe, neither of them wanted Trixie to be exposed to this case in any manner. Catching Chloe's gaze, he nodded down to the child in his arms, and watched her smile. He rubbed his hand over Trixie's back as he carried her to the hallway behind the bar, and through the penthouse to his kitchen. He chuckled when the girl turned her head as they walked past one of the counters, her hand reaching out for the clear glass jar on the table.

"Oh you think so, do you?" he teased her, as he stepped up to the counter and lifted the lid before angling her down. 

He laughed again when she came back up with two cookies, and shoved one in his mouth before nibbling on the other one. She seemed content to be held in his arms as she ate her treat, and he rolled his eyes at himself as he carried her to the walk-in fridge. He could admit to himself that both Chloe and Trixie had him wrapped around their fingers, but he also knew that he really didn't mind so much. Finishing the last bit of his cookie, he kissed Trixie's hair as he stepped into the fridge.

"Bacon," Trixie said, and Lucifer chuckled.

"Demanding little thing," he teased her. "Well, you can't just have bacon," he told her, and looked down when she turned her face up to him with a curious frown.

"Why not?" she asked, and he paused as he frowned. "Because mommy told you that?" she asked, and his frown deepened as he nodded. "Mommies have to say that. It's in the handbook," she told him. 

"There's a handbook?" he asked her with amusement. 

"There's _got_ to be one," Trixie told him with certainty. "All mommies say the same thing, so . . . handbook."

Lucifer chuckled as he nodded. There was a certain amount of logic to what she said. He felt her still in his arms, and looked down to find her staring at one of the shelves with wide eyes. Whatever was there, she clearly wanted it, and who was he to deny her desire. He stepped closer to the shelf that held a few different fresh fruits, and watched her stretch out as she reached for the star fruit. She grabbed two, and he nodded as he reached for a bowl of strawberries. 

"Alright you," he said to Trixie as he handed her a package of bacon wrapped in butcher's paper and the bowl of strawberries. "You hold that, I've a few other things to grab."

"Like what?" she asked curiously, as he stepped toward another shelf. "I don't have room for that," she said as he grabbed the gallon of milk.

"I do," Gabriel said from behind them, and Lucifer closed his eyes as he forced back the almost childish anger he felt at having the private moments with Trixie interrupted. "Here," his brother said as he stepped closer, and reached for the milk and eggs. "I'm not here to fight with you," he told Lucifer softly. "Let me get to know you as you are now," he requested.

Lucifer clenched his jaw before he sighed heavily and looked down to meet Trixie's curious stare. 

"This is one of those moments where I have to be the bigger person because I'm an influence on you, isn't it?" he asked her, and Trixie smiled at him wickedly.

"No, you can hit him if you want, just not while you're holding me," she told him with a wide innocent grin.

Lucifer stared at her blankly for a moment before he burst out laughing. Of all the things she could have said, and she had said that. How was he supposed to maintain any kind of anger in the face of that? 

"Bloody hell," he laughed, and turned to find amusement filling his brother's expression as well. "And here I thought you took after your mother," he teased Trixie as he carried her out of the fridge, Trixie and Gabriel carrying their bounty. 

Trixie giggled. "You've never been with mommy on a fight night," she teased him. "Mommy likes to watch boxing," she told him, and grinned.

"Does she now?" he asked curiously. "I'll have to remember that," he mused. 

"You need to grab the Texas Toast," Trixie said as she looked back at Gabriel. "Lucifer's making French toast."

"And what makes you say that, moppet?" Lucifer asked curiously, wondering how she had guessed correctly.

"Because you grabbed the milk and the whipping cream," she told him as though it was obvious. "Mommy likes whipped cream and powdered sugar on her French toast."

"You think you know me so well," he teased her. 

"I do know you so well," she teased in return. 

"I suppose you do," he allowed, as he sat her down on a counter behind the stove. "Well, if I'm making French toast, what am I missing?" he asked her with a grin.

"Cinnamon, nutmeg, and just a sprinkling of clove," she told him with a grin. 

"Well," Lucifer teased her. "If you know so much, would you like to make the egg wash?"

"Yeah!" Trixie said happily, and reached for the bowl he handed her, along with the spices she'd listed. "I want to use the cream," she told him, and watched him grin as he handed her the carton of heavy whipping cream.

"Be sure to leave enough for whipped cream," he told her, and watched as she flipped open the carton of eggs. 

"That child adores you," Gabriel told Lucifer softly as he set down the package of bacon. 

"That surprises you?" Lucifer asked dismissively as he gathered the pans he would need to make the food.

"What surprises me, dear brother," Gabriel said with humor, "is how equally the affection is returned. I can sense the bond between you two. Part of Dad's gift, if you will."

Lucifer scoffed as he glanced at Gabriel. "Oh, and what does your _insight_ tell you?" Lucifer asked as though the whole conversation was a matter of insanity.

"That you see her as a daughter," Gabriel said, and Lucifer looked at him as though he'd gone mad. "You can deny it to anyone you want, even to yourself, but I can see the truth of the bond. Father have mercy on anyone who may bring that child even the slightest bit of harm, because you sure as Hell won't."

"Has _everyone_ here just gone mad?" Lucifer asked as he set the pans on the stove. "Bloody hell," he said, as he turned away from his brother and stepped over to the subject of their conversation. He stilled as he looked at her, and shook his head in a mix of amusement and disbelief. "Alright, darling," he said to Trixie, grinning when she laughed. "Did you manage to actually get any of the cinnamon _in_ the bowl?" he asked her as he eyed the brown powder covering her clothes and the counter around her.

"Some of it," she said with a pout. "I tried to sprinkle it in, but it wouldn't come out!" she told him with wide eyes. 

"So you . . . shook it really hard?" he asked with confusion, and watched her sigh as she pouted and slouched. 

She reminded him of her mother in that moment, and he smiled at the memory. The one and only time that Chloe had been inebriated and let her passions rule her, and she had come to him. It amused him to remember how he had refused her kiss then, even as he was glad now that he had done so. Somehow, he doubted they would have had the same closeness in their relationship as they did now, had he given into her back then.

"I tried to take off the top and it got stuck," she said, and pouted down at her shirt. "And then it just kind of . . . exploded on me," she said, her lips twisted to the side in chagrin. "It got on Shadow, too," she said, and Lucifer turned to look at hellhound.

The brown powder covered her muzzle and the tips of her ears. He pressed his lips together in a thin line, his eyes widening as they sparkled with humor. It was the almost angry pout on Trixie's face that did him in, and he lost the battle against his laughter. He was laughing before he could stop himself, and looked up when he heard the door of the kitchen open. Chloe met his gaze with confusion, and shook her head as she stepped closer. 

Her eyes grew wide when she caught sight of her daughter and the girl's hellhound. Olivia came in behind her, the redness around her eyes were a telltale sign that she'd been crying, but she came closer in an effort to understand what everyone was laughing about. Her eyes widened at the size of the dog standing in the kitchen, the animal large enough that she was certain Chloe could ride it if she wanted to. The animal turned its head back to look at her, and her eyes widened to see its face covered in some kind of spice.

"It's not _that_ funny," Trixie said with a stubborn pout.

"Oh wow," Olivia said as she stepped closer, her eyes widening when she caught sight of Trixie. "A little fun in the kitchen?" she asked with humor.

"I was just trying to open the cinnamon," she told the adults. 

"You are _both_ getting a bath after we eat," Chloe told her daughter, and looked down at Shadow.

The hellhound released a low pitiful groan as she ducked her head. Lucifer shook his head as he chuckled. Only Chloe Decker could tell a fearsome hellhound that she would give them a bath and have the hellhound concede without argument. Lucifer turned back to Trixie, taking the bowl of egg wash from her, and the carton of whipping cream, before turning back to the stove. It didn't take him long to cook the remainder of their food and slice up the fruits to add to their breakfast.

There was a graceful symmetry, as he and Chloe moved around each other, setting the table with food and drink as everyone gathered together. He smiled when Shadow moved to sit by Trixie's side, and watched Olivia's eyes widen when Hunter stepped through the room to settle beside Chloe. It was quite obvious that she hadn't seen Chloe's guardian before now, and he found himself curious as he watched the Lieutenant take in a deep breath before tucking away any apprehension she may have for the creatures. 

"He's really very gentle," Chloe said, and Lucifer turned his attention to her as he listened to her speak with Olivia. 

"He's impossibly huge," Olivia returned, her expression incredulous. "They both are."

"Trixie rides Shadow around like she's a horse," Chloe told her with a chuckle. "And curls up with her to sleep."

"They're really good puppies," Trixie added, and Olivia's hesitation gave way to amusement as she looked at the girl.

"I suppose they are," Olivia allowed. "Chloe," she said as she turned toward the detective. "I know how stubborn you are, and how much you refuse to let something go until you have the truth. If you're willing," she said, and glanced down at her plate before meeting Chloe's curious gaze, "I want you to keep digging. What these people have done . . . It _has_ to stop."

"I never had any intention of letting them scare me off," she said, and sighed. "The man who attacked me, warned me away, and said if I didn't stop looking, I'd end up like my father. I want to reopen his case. Quietly. Off the books."

Olivia nodded. "I'll get you everything the department has on it," she said, and breathed in deeply as she turned back to her food. She blinked as her eyes caught sight of the young girl sitting next to Lucifer, and her eyes widened before she laughed. "Did you just give that dog French toast?" she asked Trixie, and the girl giggled.

"She likes it," Trixie answered with a shrug. "And she's not a dog, she's a hellhound," the girl told her happily.

"Ok," Olivia agreed easily, humoring the girl.

It didn't take them long to finish their food, or clean up after having eaten. Lucifer found amusement in the fact that neither Chloe, nor Olivia would let him assist in the cleanup, given that he had cooked the meal. The women had taken the stacks of dishes and glasses into the kitchen, staying hidden for almost half an hour before emerging once more. He watched as Chloe walked with Olivia through the halls of the penthouse, and followed behind them as they returned to the main area where he entertained guests. 

"We will get her back, Olivia," Chloe promised her, her voice soft and resolute. 

"Hope is a dangerous thing, Detective," Olivia told her, but nodded all the same. "I used to think it would break me, now I know different. I'll get Sophia back, or I'll die trying."

"Olivia," Chloe said as she met the woman's gaze. "From everything I've learned, I don't think the people who adopted Sophia have any idea of her origins. If we get Sophia back, or can talk with her, and we can talk with them, they might be able to give us what we need."

"What we need as in what?" Olivia asked as Gabriel moved to stand beside her, silently offering her his strength.

"A paper trail," Chloe told her. "I've looked into them. The man's a lawyer, a _good_ one. He does a lot of pro bono work for children and families. His wife is an accountant. They never would have willingly adopted a kidnapped child. And given their professions, I'm pretty certain they kept every communication, or record from the adoption. If anyone has what we need to prove a connection, they do."

Olivia nodded silently. Chloe knew the woman understood what she was looking for. Names, bank account numbers, dates and locations of any meetings, or where they had picked up Sophia. They needed something that tied the kidnappers to the adoption agency - if it was a real agency that was. If they could find one bank account, it might lead them to others. If they could just pull the right string, the entire affair would be brought into the light.

"Are you alright?" Lucifer asked Chloe after Olivia and Gabriel had left. 

"I don't know," she answered honestly, and leaned into his side when wrapped his arm around her shoulders. 

"Something's been bothering you for a while now," he told her. "Dare I say, since I gave you the information about the house," he offered her the opening, and led her to the couch when she sighed. "Tell me," he asked as he sat down with her.

She didn't speak as she reached for the package from the crime lab. Taking out the reports and papers, she handed him the collection of crime scene photos. He frowned when she remained silent, and turned to the photos he held when she nodded to them. The first few were simply pictures taken of the outside of the house, and a few of the front rooms. The further down he went, the more disturbing the images got. 

He frowned as he looked at the picture of the basement. Nothing had been searched through in this photo, it was just a view of the room as it was when they found it. There was a large corrugated metal container along one side of the basement, four steamer trunks along two walls, and what looked to be a medical chair along the wall under the stairs. The next photo was a close up of the corrugated container, the slats cut into the side allowing air inside. In the next photo, the door of the container was open, and the photo showed the interior of the container. 

Six small skeletons were inside the container, just small enough to be children, and he closed his eyes as rage burned through him, Their feet had been spread apart, fitting neatly into small slopes in the floor, a wide trough cut into the floor of the container between their spread legs. The trough was for their waste, he realized absently. Shackles encircled their wrists and ankles, keeping them bound in place, and tightly spaced together. 

"The report said that there was no evidence of violence on their bones. When the investigation of their remains was complete, they found all the victims left behind died in the same manner," she told him, her voice quiet, subdued. "Malnutrition and dehydration. They were starved to death."

Lucifer frowned at the tone of her voice, wondering why it seemed that Chloe believed she was at fault for their deaths. He turned to the next photo, and closed his eyes once more against his rage. Two of the four trunks were occupied. The desiccated remains inside folded into a fetal position, their wrists and ankles bound, and blind folds over their eyes. The next photo showed a shelving unit stocked with tattoo guns, inks, toiletries, a wide variety of cleaning supplies, and other items used for any number of purposes.

"The glass is still around the window," she told him, and he frowned as he looked closer at the picture in his hand.

There was broken glass around the frame of the tiny window near the ceiling. The broken glass colored with something brown, and he realized it was dried blood. _Chloe's_ blood. If they hadn't bothered to clean up the broken glass, or replace the window it meant only one thing. They had abandoned the house shortly after she escaped, and had left the children they were trying to break behind. 

"They took Kari with them," she said, and he looked up to meet her gaze. "I don't know why they only took her, but they left everyone else."

"Detective, this isn't your fault," he told her as he set the pictures aside.

Chloe sighed heavily as she shook her head. "I just keep thinking. If someone had listened to me, just _one person_ had really listened, I could have gotten them out. They didn't have to die."

"You can't save the dead, Detective," Lucifer told her, as he turned to give her his full attention. "But you can solve this, and make certain their voices are heard."

She turned toward him, the legs they each had bent up on the couch touching each other. She looked down as she shook her head, and smiled when he reached out to tuck her hair behind her ear. 

"So many times," she spoke softly, "I felt like I was going to lose myself in this case, and each time you've been there to pull me back."

"And I always will be," he vowed to her. "You've done the same for me so many times before," he told her, and smiled softly when she nuzzled her cheek against his palm. 

He leaned closer, his eyes becoming hooded when she leaned toward him in return. He dipped his head, his lips a hair's breadth from hers, close enough to feel the mist of her breath. He whispered to her of her beauty, her strength, before he closed the infinitesimal distance between them, and captured her lips with his. She gasped against his mouth as she pressed closer, and he moved slowly, taking care not to jar any of her injuries, as he slid his leg along the back of the couch. He leaned back to lie down on the couch, taking her with him until she was lying on his chest, the pair still joined by the kiss that was as delicate as it was passionate.

She whimpered above him as she moved against him, her lips trembling as she kissed him. He felt her fingers twine in his hair, tugging at him, and delighted in the sweet pain. She gasped when he slid his hand up the back of her shirt, his palm warm against the cool skin of her back, the contrast making her shiver. He chuckled when she groaned, and broke their kiss, his mouth tracing a line of fire down her jaw to her neck. She trembled against him as he nipped at the smooth column of her throat until he reached the curve of her shoulder.

He felt the vibrations as she groaned, and he growled low in pleasure as she responded to him. She called his name, the sound full of need and desire as he moved them carefully until she was lying beneath him on the couch. She reached for him as he settled between her legs, and smiled when she hooked her thigh over his hip to pull him closer. His mouth returned to hers as she whimpered and arched against him. He slid his palm up her side, his hand almost to her breast as he teased her through her clothes.

"Mommy?" Trixie called out from somewhere behind them, her voice shocking them apart.

Chloe panted as Lucifer rested his forehead against her shoulder, a breathless chuckle sounding from him as the woman beneath him groaned.

"Your spawn has the worst timing," he told her, his lips twitching with humor as Chloe slid out from underneath him.

"Kids are good for that," she teased him in return as she straightened her clothes. "Trixie," she called to her daughter, and laughed when she saw her daughter was once again riding Shadow as though the hellhound was a horse. "Having fun, baby?" she asked, and looked back as Lucifer came to stand next to her.

"Why's your face all red?" Trixie asked, and Chloe could feel the smirk Lucifer stared at her with.

"Indeed, Detective," he purred as he stared at her. "You are quite red. Do tell, what naughty things have you been up to?"

She turned narrowed eyes on him, her anger playful. "I could so hit you for that," she told him, her lips twitching as she fought against the laughter bubbling inside of her.

"Tease," he purred salaciously. "Do it."

Chloe turned back to her daughter and caught the girl staring at them with a delighted expression, her eyes wide, and her small mouth showing her surprise. 

"Were you two playing?" Trixie asked, smiling wide as she stared at them.

"Is that what you call it, Detective?" Lucifer spoke in a low seductive tone as he leaned toward her.

Chloe smacked his shoulder with the back of her hand as she stared at him with humor and irritation. He chuckled at her strike, his eyes daring her to do it again. She shook her head as she tried to maintain her anger, only to fail in the light of her daughter's delight, and Lucifer's incessant teasing. Chloe laughed as she stared at him.

"You are a horrible influence," she told the man, and watched as his smile widened.

"Thank you!" he returned, and she sighed as she turned her attention back to her daughter. 

"Alright cinnamon monsters," Chloe teased her daughter, and pointed to the hall behind the bar. "Time for a bath."

"Do we have to?" Trixie asked with a pout.

"Yes," Chloe maintained. "Go on," she said, and stepped toward the hallway. "Hunter," she called back over her shoulder. "Come on, it wouldn't be a bad idea to get you cleaned up, too." 

Lucifer laughed as he listened to the hellhound groan, and watched the beast shake himself vigorously before trotting to catch up with his charge. The idea of a hellhound getting a bath was amusing in and of itself, but imagining how they would look with wet fur, and quite possibly smelling like something flowery made him laugh harder. Only Chloe Decker, he thought with a shake of his head. He sat down on the couch as he left Chloe to her charges, and reached for the stack of photos from the house. He had only been through a few of them earlier, but as he continued now, he found his rage burning hotter.

There had been evidence of dips and hills in the earth of the near three acres of land that comprised the backyard. One by one, holes had been dug, trunks photographed in their graves before being opened to reveal small bodies inside. It seemed that children had been buried after being unintentionally killed during their captivity. He reached for the thick report folder, and looked at the index at the beginning before turning to the page that began the report for the buried trunks that had been revealed. The testing of the clothing and remains found inside were far from recent. Dental records, and scraps of material and clothing dated back to nineteen sixty-three. 

He frowned as he read through the report. None of the bodies dug up in the back yard were more recent than nineteen eighty-one. At some point, they had begun moving the bodies off site, but the question remained: Where were the other bodies? 

"You look pissed," Mazikeen said, and he looked up to meet her curious gaze.

"Nineteen sixty-three," he said, and watched her frown as she shook her head. "Whatever the county records showed was falsified. This house, the house Chloe was taken to as a child, has been used for this sinister purpose since at least nineteen sixty-three. And according to the reports from law enforcement records, the house has been seized and re-seized, each time being 'watched over' by a new officer, or detective from the L.A.P.D."

Mazikeen released a harsh sigh. "Meaning that the corruption of the department, in this matter at least, is not new."

"It most certainly is not," Lucifer agreed, and frowned as he turned his head toward the hallways behind the bar when he heard the sound of heavy footsteps in a dead run. "Oh bloody hell," he cursed when Hunter darted into the room, his fur wet and sticking up at odd angles. "Don't you dare," he warned seconds before the beast braced himself and shook hard, droplets of water flying everywhere.

Mazikeen burst out laughing, and Lucifer turned to look at her with displeasure. An excited shriek drew their attention, followed closely by the sound of more heavy running, and a few moments later, Shadow ran into the room, her fur soaked. Trixie was on her back, her small hands fisted in her fur as she held tight to her hellhound. The girl was wrapped in just a towel, her wet hair flying in all directions as she rode Shadow.

Lucifer closed his eyes as he reigned in the irritation at the wet hellhounds tromping through his penthouse. Had it been anyone other than Trixie with them, he would have raged out loud, but seeing the child smile and hearing her laugh calmed the edges of his ire. Standing from the couch, he looked at both hellhounds with a hard stare, a single brow arched, and watched them dip their heads down as they whined low. 

"Beatrice," he said as he looked at the child. "You will be cleaning this up," he told her, even as the corners of his mouth twitched with amusement. "Maze will help," he said, and felt his demon's irritation. 

"Kinda figured," she said, her mouth twisted to the side as she shrugged. "Mommy always makes me clean up my messes, too," she said, and pouted. "But it was fun though."

"Well then," Lucifer said as he smiled at her. "That makes it all worth it, doesn't it?" he teased her, and watched her smile. "Here," he said as he lifted her Shadow's back and set her on her feet. "Go get dressed, you urchin," he instructed, and listened to her giggle as she ran off.

" _I'm_ helping her clean up?" Mazikeen challenged with irritation.

"Yup," he returned, popping the p on the end. "Hang on, what's this?" he asked as he lifted a piece of paper from the low table, the water droplets that had landed on it revealing a hidden image. "If water will show you," he talked to the paper. "Then light should as well," he said, and turned on the flashlight app on his phone as he held it up behind the paper.

"That's a map," Mazikeen pointed out as she looked at the faint lines and hidden words.

"It is indeed," Lucifer said as he studied the information. "But who created it?" he asked as he looked at it.

"Where does it lead to?" Mazikeen asked, as she stared at the paper over his shoulder.

"Don't know," he said, as he moved the light to better see the words. "Looks like another code."

"They're case file numbers," Chloe said, and they both turned to look at her, watching as she dried her hair with a towel. "And it's not a map."

"You took a bath, too?" Lucifer asked with confusion, and was met with her bored stare as she arched a brow.

"Have you ever tried giving two giants dogs and an eight year old a bath?" she asked him. "There is no way to get out of that without scrubbing down the bathroom after, _and_ taking a bath of your own," she told him. 

"You know what this is?" he asked her, and watched her nod.

"It was one of the papers I found in a safety deposit box Daddy had," she told him. "I've barely scratched the surface of everything he had in there, but he knew how to make secret maps and messages." She laughed. "I remember him telling me once that he learned how to do it because he loved pirates. What is it about men and pirates?" she asked Lucifer.

"Don't look at me, Detective. I haven't the slightest idea," he returned. "If it's not a map, what is it?"

"Connections he found between case files. I haven't been able to find what those connections were just yet," she told them. "He never stopped his investigation after I was taken. He just learned to hide it better."

"So what do you want to do now?" he asked her, and watched her frown as she held the towel down in front of her.

"I want to go into the station. I need to look at the place where I was attacked," she told him, and took in a deep steadying breath, before sighing. "I want to know where the cameras are that may have caught him, and why that area was so perfect for him to attack me in. I didn't simply not see him come up behind me," she told him as she frowned, and tugged on the memory. "I don't even remember seeing a shadow on the floor, or the wall. Everything was hidden."

"Hunter's going with us," Lucifer told her, making it clear he would accept no argument, and Chloe nodded. 

"How will he fit in the car?" she asked, and Lucifer grinned.

**~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~**

Chloe frowned as Lucifer walked beside her through the station. People moved away from them almost as though they were afraid, but she didn't understand why. Hunter was with them, but she couldn't see him, and Lucifer had assured her that the others couldn't see him, either. She may not have understood what he meant when he told her the giant dog could hide himself, but she trusted Lucifer. If he said Hunter was with them, then she believed him. 

She frowned as she looked around them. It was strange how the police station seemed darker than she remembered, almost as if the lights on the edges of the large room had gone out, but all the lights were still on. The shadows were bending around them, almost as if the darkness was bowing to them as they passed, and she couldn't hide the giggle at the amusement the thought inspired. Lucifer looked at her with a curious frown, arching a brow in silent question, and she shook her head. 

"Come on," he teased her, and nudged her shoulder with his arm as they walked side by side. "Tell me."

"The shadows," she told him with a lopsided grin. "I thought it looked like they were bowing to us as we passed."

"Amused you, did it?" he asked her with a grin. 

"A bit," she said with a soft giggle. "Lucifer Morningstar, King of Darkness," she said, and laughed at the thought of it.

"It's _Prince_ of Darkness, thank you," he corrected her with a chuckle. "What if I told you they were?" he asked casually as he followed her through to the back. "That the shadows were bending to us. Well, to me," he clarified at her curious frown. 

"You make the shadows sound as though they're alive," she said, her brows quirking as she tried to decide if she believed him, or not.

"What if they are?" he asked, and she turned to him. "Don't believe that one?" he asked when she remained silent.

"Even you have to admit it seems a bit farfetched," she said, her brow arched, and Lucifer chuckled as he shrugged.

"Maybe," he allowed. "But how's that for farfetched?" he asked, and tipped his chin up as he nodded toward the darkened hallway in front of them.

"Hunter?" Chloe spoke the hellhound's name, and watched as the beast trotted toward her, his tail wagging. "How did you get here ahead of us?" she asked as Hunter whined low in greeting, and Chloe smiled as she hugged his head to her chest. 

They may have looked familiar to other breeds in their build, their coloring, but at four and a half feet at their shoulder, and almost five foot two at the top of their heads, the hellhounds far outsized any dog she had ever known. She glanced to Lucifer, catching him watching her as she hugged the animal. Hunter brought her a certain amount of peace, a feeling of safety that she hadn't found anywhere else. It was almost an extension of the way Lucifer made her feel, as if any bad thing that may try to come near her would never even get close enough to touch her. 

She followed Lucifer as he stepped across the hall, her steps becoming slower as she returned to the place she had been attacked. So many times, she had told herself that she wasn't afraid of this place. She may have been attacked there, but it was just a place, and a place couldn't be frightening, yet it was. But she was quickly discovering that there was a vast difference between what she could tell herself and what actually was.

Hunter growled low as he responded to her fear, and stepped in front of her, blocking her path as he protected her from what he perceived to be a threat. She scratched him behind his ear, the small gesture reassuring her guardian that everything was alright. His tail swung in a shallow arc as he looked up at her, and Chloe smiled as she nodded to the room. Hunter moved with her, stopping any time that she did, and walking only when she walked. The safety it afforded her far outweighed any curiosity she may have had over his actions.

"This is where you were attacked?" Lucifer asked as she stepped into the darkened hallway behind him.

"Yeah," she answered, and looked to the door at the back. "This was an old boiler room, or something like that, I think," Chloe told him. "About ten years ago, they moved out whatever had been in here, and just never moved anything else in."

"It's no wonder your hip is as bruised as it is," he told her, and tapped the edge of a protruding pipe with his foot. 

"I thought I hit the wall," she said with confusion as she knelt down to look at the almost foot wide pipe that was above the floor by only a few inches. "How have I never seen this before?" she asked herself, and touched the metal.

"It's painted the same color as the floor," Lucifer told her with an arch of his brow. "You could easily pass by it without seeing it unless you tripped over it."

The remains of the pipe had been capped off with a metal plate, large bolts driven in at the edges to hold it down. There was welding around the edges, the plate fused to the pipe, and Chloe frowned as she studied it. It almost looked large enough to be a sewer pipe, but they were too far up from the ground for that, weren't they? She closed her eyes as the attack flashed through her mind, and shook herself free of the memory as she stood from the ground. 

"Lucifer?" Chloe turned to him with concern, watching him as he stood stiff and silent. 

She stepped toward him, trying to understand why the wall seemed to upset him, only find the small smear of blood that had dried into the concrete wall. Her blood, she reminded herself, and slipped her hand against his palm, twining her fingers with his as she reminded him that she was there with him. He didn't speak as he tightened his hand around hers gently, and chaffed the pad of his thumb over her hand. 

"Never again," he promised her, his voice soft and resolute even as his eyes promised pain and retribution against the one who had dared to hurt her. 

"You're here with me," she told him, soothing his anger with the reminder. "And when you can't be, Hunter will be," she reminded him. "I still don't quite know how he was completely invisible through the station earlier," she said with a quiet chuckle. "But he'll keep me safe, just like you always do."

"Yes, he will," Lucifer agreed, and kissed her temple as they stood in the privacy of the shadows. 

Lucifer turned his head away from her, looking back at the hellhound that stood behind them. His eyes flashed red, Hunter's eyes glowing red in return as the silent command was understood. The hellhound moved to walk the edges of the room, following the faded whispers that remained of Chloe's attack until he zeroed in on the energy of the one who had attacked her. Lucifer watched as the beast turned back to him, his ebony body still and silent as his eyes glowed a dangerous crimson.

"Hunt," Lucifer issued the command in a fierce whisper, his eyes flashing crimson, and watched as the beast disappeared from sight. "Shadow will follow Beatrice to school from now on," he told Chloe as he turned back to her. "No one will be able to harm your child with a hellhound protecting her," he promised, and Chloe smiled softly in gratitude. 

"As long as she's safe," Chloe told him. "That's the only thing that matters."

"As long as you both are safe," he corrected her, his gaze steady. "I won't let either of you come to harm again."

"I couldn't do this without you," she admitted softly, as she met his gaze. "You keep me fighting even when it feels impossible to do so."

"You do the same for me," he confessed softly. 

If it were only him and Mazikeen, he thought, maybe even just Amenadiel as well, he doubted he could fight against his mother. But he had Chloe and her daughter with him. They gave him a reason to fight. They reminded him of all that he was fighting for. He was stronger now, stronger than he had ever been, because of them. Because for the first time, in his very long life, Lucifer Morningstar had something to protect.


	20. Chapter 19 "Hell Hath No Fury . . . "

AN: Lucifer and all recognizable characters belong to Jerry Bruckheimer and FOX television. Set post 'Take Me Back to Hell'. (Written prior to the start of season 2.)

 

Summary: There is only one thing that can make an immortal vulnerable, only one thing that can hurt an angel aside from another angel - their mate. It was only a rumor, a baseless myth, something Amenadiel had never believed in, until it happened to Lucifer.

**Memento Mori**

Chapter 19

**_"Hell Hath No Fury..."_ **

by WhisperingWolf

Energy spiraled through his muscles, the tight powerful cords quivering with each step he took. The darkness of the night surrounded him, shadows bending and bowing to him as though welcoming an old friend back home. The world around him was slightly distorted, as though looking at it through a veil of water, as he remained unseen to those around him. He moved slowly, leaves and twigs crushed beneath him as tendrils of smoke rose up from beneath his paws to curl up around the bottom of his legs. The wisps of darkness could only barely be discerned from the shadows that hid him, his fur standing on end with the thrill of the hunt. 

His eyes glowed red as his sight cleared, the crimson light of twin ovals the only part of him that was seen. He had been hunting this mortal for a while now, staying out of sight, and playing on the edges of what the man could just barely see. From the moment he had stepped into the building with his charge, and his master, he had felt the danger that lurked in the corners. There were others that had the will to bring his charge harm, but it was only this one his master had sent him after. 

There was a sense of delight, a wicked glee he felt in the fear he brought to the one he was hunting. This mortal had hurt his charge, crossing a line he would make sure none dared to do again. He stilled as the wind changed direction, his muscles tensing as he held silent. Tipping his head to the side, his ears swiveled back and forth as he listened for the sound again, and he snarled in rage when he heard it. That sound was too much like his other charge, the small child who never failed to greet him as a friend, and he darted forward. 

The door that separated him from his quarry crashed open under the weight of his collision. The man he was hunting fell back, terror in his gaze as he searched for what he couldn't see. Hunter advanced slowly as the shadows fell away from him in whispers and ribbons, his eyes glowing crimson as first, his right front paw appeared, and then slowly the rest of him. He knew the instant the mortal caught his first sight of him, the man's fear drowning out all other scents. He stalked closer, his lips curled back in a dangerous snarl, as he opened his jaws in a hungry smile. 

Hunter felt his eyes burn the closer he grew to the man, his growling low in volume, but becoming more dangerous by the second. He watched as the man staggered and fell, before he scrambled to his feet and fought with the weapon at his hip. Hunter felt his rage burn hotter as his eyes glowed brighter, and he leapt forward, slamming into the man with the top of his head. He felt the man fall back, heard his cry of surprise and the sound of his head connecting with the wall behind him. He watched as the man slumped to the floor, unmoving. 

Hunter stood over his quarry as he listened to him breathe, and took in the scent of fear on the unconscious man. For all the pain and terror he had brought to others, and now this foul mortal finally understood fear himself. He turned back to the soft whimpers behind him, his anger disappearing as he caught sight of the tiny child cowering in the corner. The gentleness he had with his two mortal charges surfaced as he moved closer, the crimson glow fading away, leaving his eyes a dark brown, and studied the ropes binding the girl's hands.

She had been tied to a loop in the floor, and as much as it angered him, Hunter also knew that she deserved none of his ire. This tiny creature was innocent, frightened. She was out of place here, her soul carrying none of the markers that would tell of her being of any relation to the man he had hunted. He wagged his tail slowly as he lowered his head, and took two steps forward before laying down on the floor. He crawled on his belly toward the girl as he gave a low chuffing whine, the sound friendly and playful. This move had never failed to make his younger charge laugh, and he watched as the terrified child in front of him calmed.

Whining low in greeting as he neared the child, Hunter nuzzled the tip of his nose against her fingers, her hands bound together tightly and tied to the loop in the floor. She whimpered as she pulled in a shaking breath, and he felt her fingers move with difficulty against his fur as she tried to return the greeting. He moved his tongue carefully over her hands in a sweeping motion before hooking one razor sharp canine through the rope around her wrists, and cut her free. 

He watched her grab at the ropes around her ankles, trying to free herself, and he gave a low chuffing sound to gain her attention. The girl bit her lip, slow tears falling from her eyes as she moved around until she was able to offer him her legs. Reaching for her carefully, he snapped the ropes with his canine, freeing her, and listened to the sound of pain she made as she rubbed the places where the ropes had been. 

He moved slowly, sitting up on his haunches as he watched her. The tiny mortal creature in front of him took in a shaking breath as she tried to rise, and stumbled forward before falling against him, sobbing as she hugged her arms around his neck. He lifted his paw to wrap his arm around the child, dragging her closer as he whined low again, the sound a promise of his protection. This child would be safe. He would see to it that she was returned to wherever she was meant to be. 

"Thank you, puppy," the girl said, sniffling as she pulled back, and laughed through her tears when he licked her cheek. "I want to go home," she told him, and Hunter nodded slowly as he stood.

Taking in a deep breath as he tightened his muscles, Hunter lifted his head and released a long loud howl, the power of the sound vibrating through him as the shadows carried it to the ones he was calling. They would soon be with him. No cars would be needed to transport them, and he took in another deep breath. He gave a second howl before falling silent, and returned his attention to the child in front of him. Tugging his head to the side, he took a few steps, and looked back to make sure the girl was following him.

He led her away from the corner she had been in, and to the center of the small room, before he laid down, and thumped his tail slowly against the floor in invitation. He swept his tail out of the way as she moved to curl against him, and brought his tail back to cover her legs as she tucked herself into the thick folds of his fur. It was a different feeling entirely to be charged with guarding someone who needed his comfort and protection, instead of simply keeping a wicked soul from escaping. These innocent charges made him desire the protection he gave them, and that made him more fierce in the execution of his duties. 

Hunter turned his head back to her, soothing the small child as he nuzzled his nose against her side. She sat tucked into the thickness of his fur, her small body hidden against him, and he looked up at the hollow echo of footsteps. His eyes glowed crimson as he greeted his master, the man's form appearing out of the shadows, and he turned his head back at the Devil's look of confusion. Lucifer stepped around him, his eyes widening to see the child tucked against the hellhound's side, and Hunter watched him crouch down slowly in front of her.

"Is the child his?" Lucifer asked, and Hunter responded with a low growl, the sound angry. "Didn't think so."

Hunter watched as Lucifer stood, and turned to look at another. He moved his head to follow, and watched as Mazikeen moved toward him, Shadow at her side. He listened as his master commanded Mazikeen to take the child back to his charge, and looked back to the tiny creature nearly hidden in his fur. Mazikeen moved toward him, kneeling down close to him as she reached for the child, and his eyes glowed crimson in a silent warning. The child woke the instant Mazikeen lifted her, the girl crying out in fear of the person that she didn't know, and reached for him. Hunter reacted without thinking, snarling dangerously and snapping his jaws in warning.

Mazikeen's hold on the child broke, the girl returning to him instantly, and he wrapped his tail around her back when she tried to hide against him as she sought his protection. He looked up at the sound of his master's command, and held Lucifer's gaze with an air of defiance. There had been very few times in his eons of service to the Devil that he had ever defied his master, but in this instance, he would not bow. The child was frightened, and the one she turned to for safety was him. He wouldn't forsake her, and made his position clear. 

"Take her back to your charge," Lucifer commanded him, his tone both angry and understanding. "Return to this hunt once she is settled," he commanded further, and Hunter's eyes glowed crimson in response. 

Turning his attention back to the child tucked against his side, Hunter nuzzled his nose between her body and his, scooting her away just enough so that he could stand. He licked her face when she whimpered in fear, and wagged his tail in a slow arc as she calmed. Lucifer moved closer, his hands gripping the child under her arms as he lifted her from the floor.

"Hush now," Lucifer soothed the girl. "You're safe, child. The one who took you shall be dealt with properly," he assured her, and set her down on Hunter's back just below his shoulders. "Hold on tightly now, child," Lucifer commanded, and Hunter felt her small hands grip fistfuls of his fur. 

Hunter turned his head back, nuzzling his nose against her cheek, and waited for the little girl to smile before he returned his attention in front of him. Offering a low groan, he slid his head alongside Shadow's, nuzzling his cheek against hers. He felt the child on his back move, tilt forward ever so slightly, and heard Shadow's low whine as she greeted the girl in his care. Hunter whined low in appreciation when Lucifer scratched him behind his ears, wagging his tail when he saw his master doing the same with Shadow. 

Stepping back, he looked to Mazikeen, and watched her nod slowly her understanding. She reached out to smooth his fur back over the top of his head, and nodded to the door. Moving away from them slowly, he stepped out of the broken door and into the night. The earth cushioned his paws as he increased the speed of his walk to a slow trot, and gave a chuffing growl as he shook himself slightly to make certain the child had a strong hold on him. He looked back at her, and offered her an excited yip before he took off at a dead run. He couldn't will himself from this place to his home here in this mortal world without losing the child on his back.

Hunter's jaws fell open as he ran, his tongue hanging out the side of his mouth, as he increased his speed. The exhilaration of his speed was matched only by the delight of the child he carried, her excited laughter sounding through the air around them. Her fear was gone, her tears dried, and he relaxed into the feel of her elation as he ran. He would do whatever he could to keep this innocent soul from feeling any kind of darkness as long as she was with him. He slowed to a trot the closer he got to his home, and carried her through the city streets. The little girl laughed as he jumped onto the trunk of a car, trotting over the roof and down over the hood, he repeated the process three times before he made his way to the turn he needed. A sense of peace filled him the closer he came to his charge's soul, and her daughter's, and he slowed further as he made his way to the door of the club.

"You adopting kids now?" a mortal man asked him with humor, and Hunter offered a short bark as the man opened the door for him. "I don't know how Lucifer managed to find a dog that huge," he said, and Hunter wagged his tail as he stepped past him to the elevator. 

Turning his head back to look at the child he carried, he offered her a chuffing sound, and clicked his teeth before turning his attention to the elevator controls in front of them. He watched her frown as she stretched over his head, her hand reaching for the button, and he nuzzled her arm in gratitude when the doors opened. He stepped inside with her, and blew out a harsh breath at the controls, the button he needed glowing slightly under the power of his command. He felt the child on his back lean forward, watching as her hand appeared above his head to press the button.

"I want to go home, puppy," the child said to him, and Hunter turned his head back to lick her cheek before offering her a low sing-song whine of understanding. 

He stepped into the penthouse when the elevator doors opened, his claws clicking on the polished floor, as he stood silent and scanned the room with his eyes. His tail wagged slowly when he spotted his charge sitting by the low table in front of the couch, her attention focused on the papers collected on top. Bracing his paws wide apart, he offered a low chuff of warning to the girl, seconds before he shook himself, and listened to her soft giggle as she held tight to him with her knees, and the fistfuls of fur she gripped. 

Closing his eyes, Hunter took in a deep breath, the familiar scent of his charge soothing him. He trotted toward her slowly, the speed with which his tail wagged increasing with each step. It may have originally been a command from his master that he protect this mortal woman, but it was the unconditional love and affection she returned his attentions with that had taken away the need for any such caveat. He barked softly, the sound drawing Chloe's attentions, and he watched as she looked up at him with wide eyes.

"Hi there," Chloe said as she glanced from the child on his back, to him, and back to the child again. "What's your name?" she asked the girl.

Hunter could feel the child's uncertainty, and moved closer to Chloe. He laid down in front of her when he was close enough, and nuzzled his nose under his charge's hand, waiting for her to pet him before he turned his attention back to the child. He whined low at her, tipping his head before laying his head down on Chloe's lap, and listened as Chloe assured the child she was safe. She introduced herself, the sound of her voice and feel of her soul relaxing him, and Hunter closed his eyes as he waited for the child to calm enough to return the woman's greeting.

"Hope," the little girl said after a few moments. "My name is Hope Dawn Winterhaven," she said, and Hunter lifted his head as he turned back to nuzzle against her arm. "I want to go home," she told his charge, and Hunter turned to look at Chloe with an imploring gaze. 

Chloe nodded to him, lifting her hand to scratch behind his ear. He listened as she promised the child that she was one of the good guys, and asked her for information that would help return her home to her pack. Releasing a deep sigh when Chloe lifted the child from his back, he watched her stand from the floor, and moved to stand by her side. She stood with the girl on her hip, both woman and child reaching out to pet his fur.

"I've got her, Hunter," Chloe told him, and he dipped his head in a slow nod. "Thank you for bringing her here," she said, as she scratched him behind his ears. "You're a good boy," she praised him, and he let his jaws fall open in a smile as he panted. "Go on, Hunter," she said with a soft laugh. "Lucifer said you would be with him tonight." 

He nuzzled against his charge's palm, before nuzzling his nose against the child's belly. Hope laughed as she leaned down just far enough to kiss the bridge of his muzzle. He wagged his tail as he stood in place watching as Chloe carried the child back to the hallway behind the bar. He knew his charge would keep the child safe, and felt his eyes glow as the shadows swallowed him, hiding him from sight. Within seconds, Hunter was back by his master's side, and he turned to look at the mortal who was slowly returning to consciousness.

Hunter advanced forward slowly as the man opened his eyes, and pushed the shadows back. The darkness fell away from him slowly, his form revealed to the man, and he opened his jaws wide as he snarled dangerously. Lucifer's hand on his neck stilled his movement, and he stood where he was, snapping his jaws at the mortal when he scrambled to his feet. His eyes glowed crimson as the mortal man shouted at his master, and at him, but it was the quiet rage he felt from Lucifer that gave him wicked delight.

"My demon and I have a few questions," Lucifer told the mortal as he smoothed his hand slowly over Hunter's fur, petting him gently. "You will answer them, or I will allow Hunter to do as he likes with you. He seems to have quite the problem with your kidnapping of that child."

**~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~**

Lucifer sighed as he lifted his hand to his face, and pinched the bridge of his nose. He turned his attention to Mazikeen, his expression bored and annoyed. The man wasn't telling them anything. Either, he didn't know anything. Or, and Lucifer was beginning to suspect this was the case, the man was more than a simple pawn. 

"Hunter," Lucifer spoke the hellhound's name, and tucked his hands into his trouser pockets as he leaned back against the wall casually. 

He watched as Hunter advanced slowly, the hellhound's ire more than apparent in the way ribbons of shadows coiled up around his paws. The fur on the back of his neck and shoulders stood on end. A slow smile curled Lucifer's lips up at the corners as he tipped his chin up, and watched the mortal man try to remain calm and stoic. The beast growled low, his lips curling up to reveal deadly white teeth, as the wisps of shadows rose to cover him, making the hellhound look as though he was made of smoke. 

"I won't tell you anything," the man told him, and Lucifer arched his brow in amusement.

"I don't know why you're telling me that," Lucifer said dismissively. "You see, Hunter here is the guardian of the detective you saw fit to attack. Whether you tell us anything, or not is irrelevant. You hurt his charge, and he does not take kindly to that."

Mazikeen sighed heavily next to him, growing impatient for the punishment to come, and he turned his head to look at her. The expression on her face was angry, and while impatient, she seemed almost playful. He flicked his tongue over the top of his teeth, and smiled wickedly at her before nodding the side of his head to the mortal. Her answering smile was slow and dangerously seductive as she pulled in a breath, the air hissing between her teeth. 

"Hunter," Mazikeen called to the hellhound as she pushed away from the counter she'd been leaning against, and stepped toward him. "Let's play," she purred, and smiled as she rubbed her palms together in delight.

**~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~**

There hadn't been much left of the man by the time they were done with him. They hadn't learned much, except that he was a recent transfer from Arizona. He had taken the child from her school, drugged her, tied her up, and gagged her to keep her quiet. He had driven all the way to L.A. with her in the trunk of his car. 

There was a formula for training the ones like her, the ones taken to be sold to families as adopted children, or sold into a life of being beautiful and attentive to the one who purchased them. He had left her isolated in his trunk. Bound until she couldn't move, gagged until even the loudest scream was nothing more than a muffled whisper. Her eyes had been covered, and so had her ears. He had made sure that she couldn't see, or hear anything.

He hadn't fed her since he'd taken her, yet another tool used to control the children, and break them so they could be re-forged as whatever they were needed to be. Lucifer had struck before he'd even made the decision to do so, the man's cheekbone cracking under the force of his blow. The children this organization had taken were innocent. They had _all_ been innocent. And then they had been ripped away from everything safe to be tortured and broken, and have everything torn away from them. 

_"It's a business!"_ the man had yelled at him. _"It's all just a business! They're not children, they're just a product!"_

The man's words rang through his mind even now. He couldn't seem to escape them, and Lucifer sighed heavily as he stepped into LUX. He had sent Mazikeen and the hounds back ahead of him, needing the solitude of a walk through the city streets. His brows furrowed as the elevator doors opened to reveal his penthouse, but he couldn't remember stepping into the elevator. Everything was blurred, his mind too full of what the man had said before he had shown him his true face, and fractured the man's sanity. 

"Her name is Hope." Chloe's voice drew his attention, and he looked up to meet her gentle gaze. "Maze made it back here almost an hour ago. She wouldn't say as much, but I knew she was worried about you," she told him as she stepped forward, and offered him her glass of scotch. "She told me what happened, what he said."

He tried to offer her a smile, his lips curling up, but the expression tinged with agony. The only thing he had been able to think about, as the man's words echoed back to him endlessly, was that Chloe had been one of those children. If she hadn't been strong, if her father hadn't given her the courage to be a fighter, she would have been one of the broken innocents. 

Lucifer set the glass of scotch down on the table just outside of the elevator, and reached for Chloe. She gasped slightly as he wrapped her in his arms and pulled her close. He just needed to hold her, just for a few minutes. Just long enough to remind himself that she was here with him. He felt her arms slip around his waist, her hands smoothing up his back. Where her hands stopped at, he thought, the curve between her thumbs and index fingers were just below the bottom edge of his scars.

He released a harsh sigh, something between a laugh and a sob at the thought that if he still had them, she would be cradling the under curve of his wings. It was an intimate gesture among angels. It was a sign of trust, of love, of something far deeper, and more pure than words could define. He closed his eyes as he bowed his head and pressed a kiss to her hair. 

"Hope," he spoke the child's name after a moment, and stepped away from Chloe. "It's a fitting name," he told her. "Especially now."

"That's what I thought," Chloe told him, and he looked down when she reached out to cup his cheek in her hand. "I want to show you something," she said, and he nodded as she slid her palm down his arm to take his hand. "You told me once that I should be afraid of them," she told him as she led him through the penthouse. "I want to show you why I'm not. Why I never could be."

Lucifer followed her through the penthouse, back to their bedroom, and stopped just inside the open door way. She moved aside, giving him room to move past her, and pointed to the area of the floor in front of the French doors. His steps were slow and silent as he moved around the bed, and glanced back over his shoulder when he heard Chloe sit down on the bed behind him. He turned back, his eyes finding the mountain of pure black in front of the open doors.

The slow breeze of the night wind ruffled their fur, moving the midnight strands like gentle waves on the ocean. Shadow and Hunter were curled around each other, as they often were, but instead of them lying against one another, their bodies formed a protective circle. Their heads were tucked inside the circle, almost like an abstract Yin-Yang symbol. Their tails were folded inside as well, but they were hidden underneath the small body of the sleeping child they guarded. 

These were his two most feared hounds of hell, stronger and more powerful than any demon. More terrifying than Mazikeen on her worst day, but here and now, they were the guardians of an innocent soul. He knelt down behind Hunter as he reach out to stroke the hound's head, praising the creature for guarding the child, and smiled when the beast lifted his head just long enough to lick his hand before returning to the circle he'd made. 

"I talked with Olivia," Chloe spoke to him softly, her voice barely louder than a whisper. "She was able to locate the girl's parents. They'll be here in the morning. She has a case she needs me on, but someone needs to be there to meet her parents. I told her you'd go with her," she said, and Lucifer looked back at her with a confused frown. "Hope won't go anywhere they can't," she said as she nodded to the hellhounds. "She's okay with Maze. I told her about you, and after being able to talk to her parents on the phone, she's more than willing to go with you tomorrow."

"Chloe, I don't want you alone out there," he argued softly, keeping his voice low so as not to wake the child. 

"I won't be," she promised him. "Bobby's coming into town. He won't be staying long right now, but he wants me to brief him on what we've found so far. He's agreed to shadow me for the day so that I can work on this case, and he can get the information he needs to take back to his Supervisory agent and get the official approval he needs to keep this case as a joint operation. He doesn't want to take it away from me - from _us_ ," she amended as she met his gaze. "So much as he wants to give us the help on a Federal level that we might need. I want to shut these bastards down. I want to end this," she told him, her voice trembling, and he moved to sit by her side. 

"You're riding shotgun with the Devil," he told her, nudging her shoulder with his. "We will find those responsible," he promised her, a faint red glow lighting at the center of his eyes, the crimson light there and gone too fast for her to hold onto. "We will punish this evil, and put a stop to it once and for all."

He watched her as she moved closer, his breath drawn in seconds before she cupped his face in her hands and kissed his lips. His hands combed into her hair, bringing her closer as he returned her kiss, only to feel shaken by the love and purity of the embrace. He glanced down, a genuine smile tipping his lips to see the soft rose blush on her cheeks as she bit her lip. They moved together, responding to each other like dancers in a slow waltz, as they laid back on the bed. He wrapped his arms around her as she tucked her body into his side, and pillowed her head on his chest.

Lucifer sighed as he rested his head on the pillow, and stroked his hand slowly down over her hair. His eyes fell to the side as he glanced at the hellhounds, before he turned his attention to the sliver of the moon he could just barely see through the clouds. He wouldn't ask his father for his wings back, the price he believed his father would ask was far more than he would ever be willing to pay. If he died, he died as he was, but this woman in his arms, and the child sleeping in the guest room down the hall were his. They made a family that he had been welcomed into, and he wouldn't give them up. Not for his father, not for his mother, not for anyone. 

Looking down, and confirming to himself that Chloe was asleep, he returned his attention to the sky outside his window. 

"You asked me once why I didn't love them, these humans," he spoke softly to his father. "These two, I love. These two . . . I will not ask you for my wings back. The price you would ask, I will not pay. I know Mother will do her level best to kill me, but if I die, then I will die protecting them."

**~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~**

Chloe stepped into the penthouse with a deep sigh, and closed her eyes as she gathered her strength. Today had not been easy, the case she had been assigned had shaken her faith in just about everything. The one thing she hadn't expected, was for the victim to trigger her memory of Lucifer's face the night she had shot him. It had barely been a glimpse, something she had barely seen. At the time she had wondered if she had imagined it, but now she couldn't stop thinking about it.

It wasn't just his face though, she thought as she set her bag down on the side of the bar next to the elevator. She had seen Mazikeen's face change, she knew she had. She couldn't push this aside any longer. Hunter and Shadow she had been able to accept without truly thinking too much about it. If nothing else, they were just overly large dogs whose eyes happened to glow red sometimes. But Mazikeen and Lucifer? She had never run from a conflict, or the truth, and she wasn't about to start now.

LUX had been blessedly free of patrons when she had come in, and she would use it to her advantage now. She had thought that with Trixie taking the placement exams her teacher had wanted her to take, it would mean more time in school. Somehow, it seemed to mean the exact opposite. She was home more often now because with each test they gave her, they had to give her another. Until they could find the proper fit for her, they couldn't put her in one class, or another. And the conversation she was about to have was not something she wanted her daughter to witness.

"Where's Trixie?" Chloe asked Mazikeen as she stepped into the living room, and met the bartender's gaze.

_Demon_ , she reminded herself, as she forced herself to accept the truths of things she had never thought could be real.

"She's sleeping," Mazikeen told her with a frown. "You're upset," she pointed out. "What's happened?"

"Downstairs in the club," Chloe said, denying her an immediate answer. "I don't want Trixie overhearing us."

She watched the woman narrow her eyes, whether she was annoyed, or irritated, Chloe couldn't tell. Mazikeen stepped into the elevator, and she followed after her. It didn't take them long to get into the club, and even less time to get settled. She hadn't trust herself to speak until they were seated at the bar in the club below. Well, Chloe allowed, _she_ was seated at the bar. Mazikeen was behind it and had poured her a much needed drink.

"What is this all about?" Mazikeen asked her. "As far as I know, there hasn't been a problem."

Chloe bit her lip as she held her breath, only to release it in a heavy sigh. Downing the double shot of Irish whiskey one long gulp, she met the other woman's wide eyed stared. 

"I need to see it," she told Mazikeen, and watched the woman frown. 

"See what?" Mazikeen asked cautiously, and Chloe narrowed her eyes on her.

"You _know_ what," she said, and watched her frown again, only for the ninja bartender to pull back in surprise.

"You're serious?" Mazikeen asked her with wide eyes, and blinked at her before pouring more whiskey into both their glasses. "How do you even know?"

"The night of my attack, when you came into the penthouse and saw me," Chloe said, and sipped at her drink. "I saw your face. It was only for a second, and at first I thought I was seeing things, but . . . I need to see it - _you_ \- Maze. I need to know I'm not going crazy."

Mazikeen nodded slowly. "We're going to need something stronger," she said, and put the bottle of Jameson back on the shelf before reaching for one of her favorites, a bottle of Redbreast Cask Strength Irish whiskey. At one hundred seventeen proof, the spirit would offer them what they needed. "Oh no," she denied when Chloe motioned for her to get on with it. "Accepting of what you see, or not, I am not showing you that until you've had at least one shot of this. You're going to need it."

Chloe didn't even put up a token argument as she tipped her glass to her lips and downed what was left of her Jameson. Accepting the newly poured whiskey, she drank deeply of the amber liquid, and felt her eyes widen as they teared. The whiskey was damn strong, but also as smooth and devastating as Lucifer's voice. Blowing her breath out as she blinked heavily, she nodded in approval.

"Oh, that's good," Chloe said, and met Mazikeen's gaze. "I'm ready," she affirmed, and chuckled when the other woman arched a disbelieving brow. 

Chloe watched Mazikeen impatiently as she blinked heavily, and shook her head at the sudden fog the whiskey brought over her mind. She knew she shouldn't have skipped lunch, but had been too distracted by the lead she had found to care. The detective nearly fell off her barstool a moment later when Mazikeen's face changed, the twisted and malformed flesh appearing. Her skin looked as though it had been melted, or eaten away on the left side of her face, and Chloe blinked at the sight of her jaw bone and teeth.

"You're not screaming," Mazikeen said with surprise, and nodded in approval. "Most humans wet themselves when they see my face."

"I'm not most humans," Chloe dismissed, before closing her eyes and willing her sudden flash of anger away. "I've known you and Lucifer for just over a year now," she told the bartender as she watched her face return to her normal human facade. "I've been a homicide detective for six years, and a cop for almost ten. Trust me when I say that humans are more frightening to me than you are." She shook away the sudden bout of alcohol-induced mental fog, and met Mazikeen's gaze. "Does it hurt?"

"No," Mazikeen denied with a chuckle. "It's a reflection of what I am. It's not an injury, or anything like that."

"So . . . you're a . . . "

"Demon," she said, filling in the blank for her.

"And Lucifer really is the Devil," Chloe said, only to shake her head with confusion. "But the Devil is supposed to be an angel," she denied.

"He is an angel," Mazikeen said, and Chloe felt the heat of stare. "When was the last time you ate?" she asked Chloe with curious humor. "You're usually better at holding your alcohol."

"Breakfast," Chloe said, and nodded gratefully when a dish of pretzels suddenly appeared before her. "Thank you."

"It's something more than me that's been upsetting you," Mazikeen observed. "What is it?"

"The case I was assigned today. It's open and shut, but . . . I thought I had seen everything," she said, and felt her eyes water as grief and disbelief clouded her mind. "The victim was a seventeen year old girl. Everyone who knew her said that she was very sweet, and kind. She helped her friends whenever, and however she could. A little more than a week ago, she was raped," she told Mazikeen, and watched the woman frown in confusion. "In order to . . . _reclaim_ his family's honor," she said, and felt her rage resurface more powerful than before. "Her father sprayed her with butane and set her on fire. It took her two days to die. _Two days, Maze_ ," Chloe said, and shook her head as tears of anger and grief spilled onto her cheeks before she hastily wiped them away. 

She shook her head as she cleared her throat, and did her best to gain control of her quickly escalating temper. She had tried to make sense of the crime, tried to understand how anyone could do something so heinous, but there was no rationale to any of it. The man had been unapologetic. He had fought her and the officers who had been with her. The fact that he hadn't seen there to be anything wrong with what he had done, only made her hurricane of emotions that much worse.

"He's going to go to jail for ten to fifteen years for _manslaughter_ ," she growled, and downed the remaining whiskey in her glass before tapping the rim in a request for more. "He _should_ be going to jail for twenty-five to life under the classification of a hate crime, but he's not because _she was his daughter_. _Any_ jail time is barely a slap on the wrist. I wished they had given him the death penalty. I don't even want that son of a bitch to get the luxury of jail. I want him to suffer. God help me, but I do. I want him to scream, and beg, and feel the same pain his daughter did."

Mazikeen straightened from where she had been leaning against the bar, and smiled wide as her tongue came up to curl over her canine. She looked at Chloe as though she were hungry, a desire to eat her - or eat her out, Chloe allowed - in her eyes. It probably should worry her on some level, but it didn't. 

"Maybe you are more like us than I thought," Mazikeen purred with approval. "Where is this man now?"

"Central booking, awaiting transfer to a medium security prison. He didn't even get maximum security," Chloe said with a hateful laugh. "It's a joke! Hell, Trixie could break out of a cell in central booking."

"If I could guarantee you that this man would know pain and torment before he ever felt the fires of Hell," Mazikeen offered, leaving the question unspoken.

"What would you want?" Chloe asked, too angry to remind herself that she shouldn't want such things. 

"Convince Lucifer to ask for his wings back," she told Chloe, her voice heavy with the reluctant displeasure of her request. "He can't fight his mother and survive without them. She would kill him on their first encounter."

"Why doesn't he want his wings back?" Chloe asked, realizing in that moment that she had stepped past the possible _idea_ of Lucifer being an angel, and into the firm _acceptance_ that he was one.

Mazikeen sighed. "Because they'll come with a price, and _you_ might be that price."

"What?" she asked with confusion. 

"In exchange for giving him back his wings, Lucifer may have to sacrifice what he has with you," she told her, speaking aloud what she had overheard Lucifer and Amenadiel talking about a few weeks ago.

"Is his concern valid?" Chloe asked with disbelief.

"Yeah," Mazikeen said, and looked down before meeting her gaze once more. "Yeah, it's really valid. They all say he was God's favorite son, but all I've ever known his father to do is punish and bully him. Lucifer's gotten more affection from the demons in Hell, and we're as bad as they come. If the treatment he got in Heaven is how God shows his _favoritism_ than I'm damn glad I'm a demon."

**~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~**

Lucifer heard the sound of Chloe's angry words seconds before he entered the bedroom they shared, and closed the door. He had thought initially that he had done something to set her off, but when he listened to what she was saying, he blinked in surprise. Moving to lean against the poster of the King Luis XV canopy bed, he crossed his arms over his chest, and delighted in the fire of her rage, and the way it made her pure soul shine. 

"You sick and _sadistic_ son of a bitch," Chloe snarled as she stood on the balcony, the French doors open behind her. "I _never_ believed in you, and now I so _damn glad_ I didn't. How can you claim to love him when all you've ever done is punish him? Did you even stop to listen to him at all, when that great _war_ happened? A war that was by all rights _your fault_?" she raged, and Lucifer frowned as he tipped his head curiously. "Don't even get the notion that this anywhere _near_ a prayer because this isn't. You haven't _earned_ that, and you most _certainly_ do _not deserve_ a prayer."

"Chloe?" Lucifer called to her, but she didn't seem to hear him.

"He is a _good man_ ," she continued on, the fire of her soul shining as brightly as any star. "I have known him for a little more than a year. _A goddamn year_ , and I know him better than you ever did. For you to believe a lie like that, that he _wanted_ a rebellion, that he _wanted_ people to suffer only shows how completely _stupid_ you are. It certainly explains all the wars fought in _your name_. All the murders, and tortures, and fucking _hate crimes committed in your name_. All he ever wanted was to be loved, to have the same free will you gave us, but that wasn't good enough for you, _was it?!_ " she fairly screamed. "I hope she finds you first," Chloe snarled. "And I hope that ex wife of yours drives a steak through your unfeeling heart."

Lucifer blinked wide in shock at her words. Hearing her tell off his father was something he had found amusement, and even arousal in. But learning that she was telling God off _because_ of him? Lucifer stared at her in stunned silence, not knowing what he should do, if anything. 

"He would rather die a free man, than ask _you_ for the wings that he needs in order to defeat her," Chloe said, her voice quieter, but no less angry. "She's _your_ ex-wife and you don't even have the _balls_ to face her yourself, you coward. Why anyone ever thought you were worthy of worship is beyond me. And Daddy," Chloe called out, changing the focus of her ranting prayer. "If you ever end up talking to that bastard, beat the hell out of him for me. He doesn't deserve anyone's kindness, because he's clearly done nothing to earn it."

"Hoo-boy," Gabriel said, surprising Lucifer, and he turned to glance at his brother. "She's sure got fire, that one. I can see what attracted you."

"Did Father send you down?" Lucifer asked, and Gabriel chuckled.

"Nope," he said, popping the 'p'. "You're getting the tail end of this. She's been dressing Him down for a while now. Until now, I didn't really understand that human phrase. 'Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned'. She is _fury_ ," he said with approval. 

"If not for Father, than why _are_ you here?" Lucifer asked, and Gabriel smiled. 

"Do you remember those prophecies Dad used to keep locked away?" he asked, and frowned at him. "It has been so long . . ."

"Oh, I remember," Lucifer said, with a curious arch of his brow. "I also remember you always being curious as to whether you could undo Father's locks, or not. It was practically a sport for you."

"Still is," Gabriel admitted with an amused shrug. "Found one He had hidden far away. Seventeen locks on it, even," he told Lucifer. "And you know me."

"The more locks something has, the more you want to get into it," Lucifer said with humor.

"Exactly," Gabriel cheered. with a laugh. "Anyway, for it to have _that many_ locks on it made me curious. So, I read it."

"And?" Lucifer asked with annoyance.

"Annnnd," Gabriel said, stretching out the word. "I didn't get to read all of it before Michael found me, but the first part of it was rather unforgettable. 'When a pure soul fights for the Devil, and is willing to tear apart Heaven itself to protect him, the truth shall be discovered.' That's it. That's all I got to read."

"Oh yes, because that's bloody helpful," Lucifer growled low.

"It is," Gabriel said pointedly, and nodded at Chloe. "Don't you think?"

Lucifer turned to ask his brother what he meant, only to watch him disappear as easily as he had appeared. Chloe's gasp of surprise drew his attention and he met her gaze with fascination and amusement. 

"How long have you been standing there?" she asked him, and he frowned when she reached out to steady herself on the bedpost. 

"Long enough," he told her, his eyes becoming hooded as he stared at her with hunger. "You're all fire and glorious rage," he said as he reached out to touch her. "Are you alright? You seem . . . unsteady."

"I'm fine," she told him with a huff, and his eyes widened as he barked in laughter.

"Are you drunk?" he asked her, watching as she seemed to sway where she stood.

"No!" she denied him, and blinked her eyes wide as she rocked on her feet. "Maybe . . . Possibly . . . A little."

"How much have you had?" he asked her with a laugh, as he caught her by her shoulders and moved her to sit on the bed before she could fall over.

"I don't know," she said with a shrug. "Maze 'n' I had some whiskey. There was Jameson, and then Redbreast, and . . . Glove Velvet, I think," she said, and frowned at the name.

"Glenlivet?" he asked her with wide eyes.

"Yeah that!" Chloe said, and nodded, only to move too far forward. 

"Careful there, Hellfire," he teased with a laugh as he caught her shoulders before she could fall. "Exactly how much did the two of you drink?"

"I don't know," Chloe pouted. "Enough to know that while I might _think_ I could fly, I'm smart enough to _know_ that I can't."

"I'm not sure that helps," he told her with confusion. 

"Your dad's an asshole," she said, and he barked with surprised laughter.

"Well, yes, I think so," Lucifer agreed with her as he laughed. "The better question is, what makes _you_ think so? And when did you start thinking He _was_ real?"

"A few days ago, but I talked with Maze. I had to know for sure. Her demony face isn't so scary, you know," she told him, and shook her head to rid herself of her rising vertigo. "Oh, that wasn't smart," she said as she put her hand to her forehead. "That son of a bitch would rather see you dead in Hell, than alive and happy down here," she said, and his eyes hardened.

He knew those words because he had been the one to say them. " _Maze_ told you that?" he asked with a low growl.

"Don't be mad at her," Chloe said, and pushed at his shoulder only to knock herself over. "She was worried about you. Besides, she looks fucking hot in that leather corset."

"Oh yes, you're _well_ past drunk," Lucifer told her with irritation at Mazikeen, and amused patience with her. "Come on, love," he said as he pulled on her hands to help her up. "No, not that," he denied her as he helped her out of her shoes, jacket, and jeans. "Now don't do that," he told her when she pouted. "We'll have play time later. Come on now," he said, and walked with her to the side of the bed. "Into bed with you now, party girl," he instructed her as he held up the blankets, and laughed when she rolled into the bed quite literally. 

"Mac-Mick-Colin," she said, and frowned as she lifted her hand from beneath the blankets to point at him, her arm moving in wide circles. "That eighteen hundred stuff."

"Oh, bloody hell," Lucifer said as he tucked her into bed, before moving to lock the balcony doors. "Best not leave anything flammable near you," he said as he shook his head. 

He didn't have to travel far to find Mazikeen, the woman leaning against the bar in the penthouse as though she were waiting for him. 

"Exactly how much did she drink?" he asked her.

"Not that much," Mazikeen said with a shrug.

"Maze, 'not that much' for her, and 'not that much' for us, are two _very different_ things," he growled. "How much?"

"Well, we started off with half a bottle of Jameson, she drank most of that half. Then we moved onto the Redbreast, about six shots for her. Glenlivet, was somewhere between four, or eight. She was pouring those shots herself, and then there were a few shots of the MacCallan Eighteen Hundred. She does not like that, by the way," she counted off with amusement. "Now, don't get mad at me. Save your anger."

"For what?" he demanded of her, his eyes flashing crimson.

"We have a punishment to carry out, she requested it _before_ the alcohol hit her system," Mazikeen told him, and his brow furrowed at the pride in her voice.

"What punishment?" he asked, and arched a curious brow when she handed him an L.AP.D. case file. 

"Apparently, she believes the sentence he's getting is little more than a slap on the wrist," she told him as he opened the file, his eyes burning hotter the more he read. "It was child's play to get the man out of his holding cell. I have him waiting for us."

"Was this a promise, or a deal?" he asked as he looked up from the file in his hands, closing it as he set it aside.

"A deal," Mazikeen answered, and shrugged in dismissal. "For her want of his punishment, I asked her to convince you to ask for your wings back." Her gaze grew fierce in the light of his anger. " _No one_ wants to see you _die_ against your mother, and that is _exactly_ what will happen without your wings. Anyway, she and I got to talking, while she was proving her alcohol tolerance," Mazikeen said with a laugh. "And toward the end of it, I do believe her exact wording was 'The fuck is Lucifer going to have to ask that sadistic fucker for anything. He's _going_ to _give_ Lucifer back his wings, or I'm going to rip his microscopic balls off and feed them to him'." Mazikeen feel silent, and sucked in a breath through her teeth as she purred in delight, her eyes shining with arousal. "She's tasty when she's pissed off."

Lucifer couldn't help the laugh that came from him, and nodded at his demon's words. He couldn't say he didn't agree with her. There were times he would push Chloe's buttons just to see her ire rise, and delight in the fire and shine of her soul.

"Yes, well," Lucifer said, and grinned. "She thought you were pretty tasty as well."

" _Really_?" Mazikeen purred, her eyes making it clear she'd thought more than once about playing in the bedroom with the detective.

"When she's _sober_ , Maze," he told her, his brow furrowing at the look on her face. "What?"

"I never realized before _just_ how much like us she really is. It's delicious," she told him, rubbing her hands together with a mix of approval and arousal. "What that man did," she said, her tone losing its levity as she glanced at the file. "Jail would be nothing to him."

" _Clearly_ ," Lucifer snarled. "Have you prepared him properly?" he asked her, and watched her arch a brow.

"He's bound and waiting for us," she offered.

"Maze, do be a good demon, and go toy with him. Hide on the edges of his vision, and play with what he can't see. Marinate him a bit," he instructed, and watched as she smiled in delight.

"Of course," she purred. "This is going to be _so hot_ ," she said, her eyes burning with desire.

He watched her leave and smiled in amusement. It had been awhile since the last time he had truly let the devil within out to play, and this man deserved no less than his best. All that aside, with as drunk as he knew Chloe to be, he didn't want to leave her alone. She was going to have on hell of a hangover when she woke, and he wanted someone to be there to help her if she needed it. Closing his eyes as he sent up a prayer, he smiled seconds later when Amenadiel appeared on the edge of the balcony. 

"Is there any particular reason you called for me?" his brother asked as he stepped through the penthouse.

"Chloe," Lucifer said simply, and watched as a smile twitched at the corners of his brother's mouth.

"Everyone's talking about it," he said with a laugh. "Michael's pissed off, Raphael's in a snit, but just about everyone else got a kick out of her telling off Father. I think even Father got some kind of amusement out of it," he said with a grin. "She's not in any danger of retribution if that's why you called me here."

"No, not that, but thank you for that tidbit," Lucifer said, and set aside the glass of scotch he'd been sipping from. "I must go out for a bit. Stay here and guard them both please," he requested, and rolled his eyes. "Beatrice is asleep, curled right in between Shadow and Hunter. Chloe is . . . well, I'm sure you'll see," he said with amusement. "Must be off now, brother. Enjoy."

Amenadiel arched a brow as he watched his brother exit through the elevator, and wondered exactly what could be so important he had to call on him to watch the detective and her daughter. His eyebrows lifting and falling in an expression of a shrug, he reasoned that it could be hours before either human made an appearance. Curiosity getting the better of him, he turned toward the file stamped with the L.A.P.D. logo and opened the cover. His eyes burned, and his wings flared out in rage at the sight of the contents contained within. What had originally been amused annoyance now became anger and approval. If this was what Lucifer was dealing with, may his brother do his worst.


	21. Chapter 20

AN: Lucifer and all recognizable characters belong to Jerry Bruckheimer and FOX television. Set post 'Take Me Back to Hell'. . (Written prior to the start of season 2.)

 

Summary: There is only one thing that can make an immortal vulnerable, only one thing that can hurt an angel aside from another angel - their mate. It was only a rumor, a baseless myth, something Amenadiel had never believed, until it happened to Lucifer.

**Memento Mori**

Chapter 20

by WhisperingWolf

Chloe frowned as she looked around her. She shouldn't be in this place. She hadn't seen this house in more than twenty years, but it didn't change the fact that she was standing in the living room of the home she had grown up in when she'd lived in Glendale. It was a strange thing to find that the coffee table didn't seem so small to her, in fact, it almost seemed big in some ways. Her eyes widened when she caught sight of her reflection in the dark polished wood. 

She had all her memories of being an adult. She knew for certain that Lucifer had helped her into bed after finding her too drunk to even stand upright on her own, but the reflection that stared back at her was that of a child. If she had to guess, she would say she was maybe five, or six years old. It didn't make any sense to her. If this was a memory she was dreaming about, then why would she still have her memories of being an adult? And why did everything seem just slightly out of focus, as though the air was heavy with a fine film of smoke? What was this?

When she looked around the room, she frowned at the sight of her father sitting at the kitchen table. There were papers and files strewn over the top of it, a notebook sat next to him, and there was a pen clenched between his teeth. She narrowed her eyes as she stared at him. This all felt achingly familiar, but she couldn't remember this. Why was she dreaming about it now? Was that what this was? A dream?

"Hellcat," he called to her, and she looked up to meet his gaze. "It's ok, Sweetheart," he soothed her, and scooted his chair back as he held his hand out to her. "I know this is all confusing. You're not really five years old," he told her as he lifted her to sit on his knee. "But you already know that, don't you?"

"Daddy, I don't understand this," Chloe said as she looked at him before turning her attention to the table. "These papers," she said as she reached for one of the sheets he was working with. "This is our code."

"It is," he confirmed, and nodded slowly. "I don't have a lot of time, baby. I know this is all just a dream to you, but it was the only way I could reach you. There are some things I need to tell you," he said, and Chloe turned to look at him with wide eyes.

"Tell me? I don't understand," she said again, and listened to her father sigh as he hugged her tight. 

"I know, hellcat. I know this doesn't make a lick of sense to you, just listen to me, ok?" he said, and she nodded. "It won't be easy to remember all of this when you wake up, but I need you to try. For me?" She nodded, and he smiled sadly. "Things are going to get really tough, and really dangerous. You're strong, hellcat. Stronger than I ever was, and I know you'll make it through what's to come. You need to talk with Olivia, her husband left her all of his research, but she never opened it. You need to ask her for it."

"How do you know that?" Chloe asked him, her brow furrowed in confusion. "How do you even know Olivia?"

"Just listen to me," he told her, and kissed her hair. "I don't have a lot of time," he told her again. "It's not so easy to come to you in your dreams. Hell, I had to wait for you to be drunk off your ass to do it," he told her with a laugh. "Ask Olivia for the papers. There's another person you need to talk to. His name is Jorgensen. You'll find his information in the papers I left in the safety deposit box. Tell him who you are. Tell him you're Hellcat. He'll have some stuff for you that I left with him."

"Dad, I don't understand," Chloe told him, and he sighed. 

"I know," he told her. "Just remember what I told you. And no matter how hard it gets, don't give up on Lucifer. No matter what anyone tells you, or what you see, or hear. Don't lose your faith in him, because he's never lost his faith in you," he told her. "I love you, hellcat."

Chloe stood frozen inside her dream, watching as her father faded away. Her mouth formed the words as she cried out to him, begged him to come back to her, but there was no sound. The louder she tried to call out to him, the more she felt to be drowned in the silence of her surroundings. Her eyes closed as she felt the ghost of a touch against her cheek, and whimpered softly when she heard Lucifer's voice calling to her. She felt his arms wrap around her, a warmth filling her as she felt herself moved, and frowned as she opened her eyes. 

"There you are," Lucifer soothed her, as he kissed her temple, and she found herself held in his lap. "Nightmare?" he asked her when she frowned, and held her when she curled against him.

"No, I . . . I don't know," Chloe said quietly. "Not a nightmare really, but it was . . . weird. It felt so real," she told him, and blinked slowly when he smoothed her hair back from her face. 

"Tell me about it," he requested, and she smiled softly when he brought the blankets up around her shoulders. 

"I was back in the house I grew up in, in Glendale," she told him, her voice soft and almost slurred as she remained teetering on the edge of consciousness. "I was little, five, or six, but I still had all my memories from now. My dad was sitting at the kitchen table with all these papers around him."

He looked down when she grew silent, watching as the lines formed between her brows as she frowned in thought. There was something there, something in her gaze that made him think what she had dreamt was more than just a dream. It was possible for the dead to contact the living. It was rare, and the feat itself taxing on both the dead and the living, but it could be done if the connection was strong enough. By all accounts, Chloe had been closer to her father than any other person in her family, and that tight a bond could easily pave the way for her father to try and reach out to her from Heaven. 

"Some of them looked like the same papers I found in his safety deposit box," Chloe told him after a moment. "He told me I needed to talk to someone. I needed to . . . Jorgen - Jorgensen, I think," she said slowly, her face pursed in concentration as she pulled on her memory of the dream. "He said his information was in with the stuff I'd found in his box. He also told me that Olivia's husband had left her all of his research, and I needed to ask her for it. But I don't understand," Chloe said as she turned her face up to look at Lucifer, meeting his gaze. "It was just a dream. How could he know any of that? I don't even know any of that."

"I don't think it was a dream," Lucifer told her as he relaxed back against the headboard behind him. "It is possible for the dead to reach out to the living. It's difficult, and it's rare," he told her. "But it is possible. What else did he tell you? Do you remember?"

Chloe frowned as she turned and leaned her head against his shoulder. She smiled softly when he kissed her hair, and took comfort in the private moments they shared. She lifted her hand from beneath the blanket to touch the black leather jacket he wore, wondering why he was dressed in it. The leather felt almost comforting beneath her skin, and she wrapped her fingers around it loosely as she held onto the coat. 

"He said things were going to get dangerous," she told him, and felt his arms tighten around her protectively. "He told me not to lose faith in you," she told him as she turned her head up to meet his gaze. 

"Smart chap," he teased her as he met her gaze. 

Lucifer could see the silent question in her eyes, knew that she wanted to know where he had gone, but for some reason she was unwilling to ask. He wondered if she remembered the request she made of Mazikeen, and if she did, perhaps that was what kept her quiet. To say that he had been surprised when Mazikeen told him Chloe had requested the punishment was an understatement. The detective was a woman who had worked so often in shades of black and white, what was right versus what was wrong. Her laws gave her a kind of foundation that she was able to stand on and judge everything else by. 

The corruption she had found herself investigating had made her question everything she knew. The tenants she had once held dear, the morality she clung to, had begun to seem almost naive to her. He had watched as she had been torn down more and more the deeper she dug into the case and those involved. The closer they grew, the more time they spent together, had also shaken some of her preconceived notions, as she had slowly begun to believe in the truth of his devilish claims. He kissed her temple as he waited for her to speak. 

"You and Maze," Chloe began slowly. "You two killed that man?" she asked, and looked up to meet his gaze. 

"He died as a result of his punishment, yes," he told her, and watched her frown. "Chloe, he deserved everything he got, and more," he said when she remained silent.

"It's not that," she denied him. "I . . . I should be upset, but I'm not. I knew he would barely get anything even close to any real punishment in jail, and what he did to his daughter was reprehensible at best, completely horrifying at worst," she said, frowning as she leaned against him. "I . . . I don't know how to be okay with the fact that I'm not upset. What does that say about me? Am I . . ."

"You're still you, darling," he assured her. "That will never change. You haven't become bad, or evil, if that's what you're thinking," he told her with an arch of his brow. "Your soul is still as pure as the day I met you. All it means is that you understand that your laws and systems couldn't bring justice for his victim. After all, what has incarceration ever actually done except allow the wicked to plan how they will carry out even more wicked deeds?" he reasoned. 

"She was his daughter," Chloe said, her voice choked. "How could he . . . I don't understand."

"What he did cannot be understood," Lucifer told her, and frowned when she turned her attention to him, in her eyes a disarming mix of anger and sorrow. "What?" he asked her, his frown deepening as she stared at him. 

"Show me," Chloe requested, and he shook his head in confusion. "What you've told me, what you've tried to protect me from," she clarified. "Show me."

"Chloe," he cautioned her as he shook his head. "You don't need to see that," he tried to dissuade her, and met her gaze when she gave him her full attention, and framed his face in her hands.

"Ever since I saw Fatima in the hospital," she told him, her soft voice trembling with anger and grief. "Ever since I saw the photos they took of her throughout the process of cleaning her injuries and trying to save her . . . I've been remembering the night when I shot you, the flash of your reflection I saw in the electrical box. It didn't make sense to me at first . . . but I think it does now. I'm not afraid of you Lucifer. I never have been," she promised him. "Show me," she requested again.

Every person who had seen the truth of him, the face of the devil underneath had been driven insane. He couldn't live with himself, would never be able to forgive himself, if he did that to her. She was insistent in her request, and he closed his eyes as he mourned what might have been. As much as he wanted to, he couldn't deny her this request. Cupping her face in his hands as he studied her, memorized the dips and hollows of her face, the fathomless depths of her blue eyes, he leaned close and kissed her. He lingered at her lips, his heart breaking as he whispered that he loved her, saying it to her now if he never could again.

Pulling back, leaning against the headboard behind him as she remained seated on his lap, Lucifer closed his eyes. He couldn't look at her, couldn't bear to see the fear, or hate on her face, and took in a deep breath as he let his true face show. His entire being hurt with the fear that she would leave him, the expectation that he would drive her mad. Just when he had begun to believe that he would be allowed one kindness, one source of true, unconditional love, and it was to be ripped away.

Lucifer gasped at the feel of Chloe's lips on his, his eyes opening in disbelief that she would touch him when he looked like this. His breath trembled as he stared at her, watching in an unsettling combination of fear and anticipation as she studied him. He felt her fingertips brush against his skin, knew that the face he hid underneath, the red flesh with spots of white, and a deeper red - so dark that it looked black - was still showing. She leaned closer, bracing herself gently on his shoulders, as she lifted and turned until her knees were framing his hips. 

He waited in silence, praying she would say something, frightened she would run from him, or be driven mad, as she studied his devil's face. Her fingertips ghosted across his skin as she framed his face with her hands. She leaned in close again, kissing his cheeks, his eyes, his brow. He released a breath, the sound somewhere between pained and amused, when she pressed a kiss to the tip of his nose before she tipped his head up and kissed his lips.

Lucifer groaned as he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close as he returned her kiss. Her strength broke him, her fearless compassion shaking him to his core as she stayed with him. She didn't run, she didn't scream, she didn't even flinch. He stared at her in silence, his brow quirking as he tried to understand if it was a delayed reaction, if she would run. 

"I'm not afraid of you," Chloe whispered to him, smoothing the pads of her thumbs over the curves of his crimson cheeks as she studied him. "I don't think I ever could be. I know who you are, Lucifer. I know the man, the soul. But this," she whispered painfully, tears gathering in her eyes as she brushed the backs of her fingers down his cheek. "This isn't some demonic mask. It's not a twisted soul, or . . ." She fell silent as she bowed her head, tears falling on her cheeks as she returned her eyes to his. "These are burns," she whispered, crying as he lifted his hand to wipe away her tears. "That's why seeing Fatima reminded me of you. Who did this to you?" she asked, her breath hitching as she tried to hold back her tears.

"It happened when I fell," he told her, his voice little more than a whisper as his angelic features returned. "My fall from grace meant that I no longer had Heaven's protection against the fires of Hell," he told her as he framed her face in his hands, studying her eyes as he tried to understand how she wasn't driven mad by seeing him. "When I was cast into Hell by Michael," he said, and smiled with bittersweet humor at the touch of confusion in her gaze. "All those paintings you see of the angel spearing the devil. That was Michael casting me out of Heaven and into Hell. He looks so serious in the paintings, but he was . . . he was happy to do it. I remember him laughing," he told her, the memory painful, and met her gaze with a sad smile when she smoothed her hands against his cheeks. "The fires of Hell burned me when I passed through them. Everywhere," he said after a moment. "Only my wings remained free of the fire. But the rest of me burned."

"They did that to you? Your family?" Chloe asked him, swallowing thickly as she smoothed her fingers against his cheek and jaw. "They hurt you like that?"

"It's complicated, Chloe," he tried to comfort her, as he tucked her hair behind her ear, and cupped her jaw in his hand. "You didn't scream," he told her with awe as he studied her eyes, his thumb chaffing over her delicate skin. "Most people are driven mad when they see me," he told her.

"I know _you_ , Lucifer," she told him, her voice soft. "I know who you are, the kind of man you are. And if I know nothing else, I know that there's nothing you could ever do to deserve _that_."

"You're not going to let this go, are you?" he asked her, and released a breath of amusement when she arched her brow silently. "Didn't think so," he said. "What do you want to know?" he asked her, wondering just what it was that she was asking for.

"Everything," Chloe said, and he breathed out a disbelieving laugh. 

"You don't ask the small things, do you?" he asked her, and watched her meet his gaze. "Any chance you might be willing to wait for the story until you've slept a bit more?" he asked, and chuckled at the look she leveled him with. "Of course not," he answered his own question. 

Lucifer sighed as he lifted Chloe from his lap to stand on the floor next to the bed, watching as she looked down at the cobalt button down blouse that covered her black bra and panty set. He stood from the bed, meeting her gaze as he moved around her, his lips twitching with amusement at the soft blush that dusted her cheeks at their closeness and her state of undress. He breathed in as he leaned in close to her, pecking her on the lips with a butterfly kiss as he moved past, and delighted in how her blush became more apparent. Give the woman a murder, or a dangerous criminal and she was untouchable, but put her in a situation that was softer and more intimate and she had no idea what to do. It was absolutely thrilling to knock her off kilter.

"If we're going to have this kind of a discussion, I'd rather be a bit more comfortable," he told her, and moved past her as he took off his jacket. "Fancy a soak in the hot tub?" he asked with a teasing grin as he stepped into his closet. "It does wonders for a hangover, or so I'm told," he teased, and looked back over his shoulder to see the grin she tried to hide. "Don't worry about changing, you look ravishing."

"You're not going to worm your way out of this one," she called after him, and he laughed.

"Darling, I'm not _worming_ my way out of anything," he called back before stepping back into the room dressed only in a pair of deliciously soft black boxers. "Although if you'd prefer, I'd be happy to _worm_ my way into something else," he teased her as he let his gaze travel over her, grinning when she shivered under the heat of his stare.

"Just the story, Lucifer," Chloe thwarted him, and his lips twitched as he held back his laugh at her predictable answer.

"Whatever you say, Detective," he teased her. 

He smiled when she shook her head in return, her expression of amused annoyance familiar. His lips angled down in a grinning shrug as he wiggled the fingers of his outstretched hand at her. She sighed, rolling her eyes, as she reached for him and slipped her hand into his. He led her out his bedroom and down the hall until they reached the entrance to the main part of his penthouse. Regardless of the depth of the conversation they were about to have, he felt rather high and free spirited. She had seen him bared, horns-out some might say, and she hadn't run screaming. She had accepted every part of him.

She stopped walking, and he felt the tug on his hand when she pulled him back. He turned to look at her, a frown of question furrowing his brows as he met her gaze. She glanced ahead of him, and he followed her line of sight to the hot tub outside the glass walls of his penthouse. The hot tub was already occupied it appeared, Mazikeen and Amenadiel curled together in the heated water. He grinned at the sight of it, amused by the prospect of interrupting their intimate embrace.

"They won't mind," he assured her, and grinned. "Besides, why only take my word for what I'm about to tell you. Amenadiel knows the truth, and I'm certain he'd be willing to answer any questions you might have."

"We should let them be," she told him, her expression adoring. "They don't get much time alone."

Lucifer scoffed as he looked at her with confusion. "Alone time?" he asked her as though she'd lost her mind. "Those two?"

"They're cute," she told him, and Lucifer looked at her with amused disbelief. "What? They are!" she insisted with a smile.

"Oh, I'm certain my brother adores being dominated by her," he said with a grin. "Maze can be ever so forceful when she wants to be. You should see her with a whip."

"Lucifer!" Chloe exclaimed, and slapped his shoulder when he laughed.

**~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~**

The building he kept his office in had gone through three major renovations before he had purchased it five years ago. At one point, someone had the idea to put in hidden passageways, building a second wall over the existing structures and pressure panels in places that would pull sections of the walls back and into hidden pockets. Why anyone had decided to do it was beyond him, but they came in handy more than once. His office sat on the top floor, in fact, it was the entire top floor. 

He was surrounded by windows, able to see anything he wanted, but the dark tinted glass kept those on the outside from being able to see him. It had been easy enough to take over the business from his father, to restructure it in the manner he had learned after earning his masters in business from Harvard. He had changed their operation from back alley deals and stolen semi trucks to an international business with a logo and a network of contacts.

The people he trusted the most were his seconds. They each held satellite offices around the world. No matter how many satellites there were, this office in San Francisco would always be the main office. And he would always be the head of it. Breaking the children and turning them into whatever he wanted them to be had been broken down into a science, an art that was able to duplicated and taught. It was more profitable than cattle farming, and so much easier than owning a tech conglomerate. Small containers had been created to house six children at a time, their hands and feet chained to the floor and ceiling. It was the perfect way to ship them off, and so much more cost effective then moving them with individual drivers. 

He looked down at the screen of the iPad sitting on his desk, and nodded to himself at the progress being made despite the setbacks they'd had recently. Twelve containers were being shipped today, and they had already left the Port of Los Angeles. They had been written off as exercise equipment, a few of them, even livestock. This shipment would yield his company two-point-five million. It was a thirty percent loss from last year, but it wasn't as easy to take the higher quality ones anymore.

"Patricia," he called as he pressed the button for his secretary. "Get me Benson in the L.A. office."

"Right away, Mr. Callaghar," she responded. 

A few moments later, the phone beeped, and he answered the call. 

"Tell me the situation has been handled," he said in lieu of a proper greeting. 

"Not exactly." Benson responded, and he closed his eyes as he held back his temper. 

"Then _be_ exact," Callaghar said, his words clipped.

"Sergeant Collins from Arizona wasn't entirely successful," Benson told him reluctantly. "He sent her the message. Said he was able to surprise her, and got a few good licks in. His last report though made little sense. He kept saying that the Devil came after him with dogs."

"Collins was your recruit," he reminded Benson. "You said he could be trusted."

"He could," Benson insisted. "I don't know what happened. He was as tough as they come. Passed all the evals you and the others set up. The girl he brought with him was taken smoothly, out of sight of any cameras, or witnesses. it was perfect."

"Then what happened?" Callaghar demanded.

"I don't know," Benson replied. "But we've got another problem."

"What _kind_ of problem?" he asked with growing ire.

"That damn detective is still digging around. The only thing the attack did was make her push harder into all of this," Benson told him with a sigh. "Add onto that, that it's only been less than a week since he sent the message to that same detective, and now he's ranting and raving like some kind of lunatic." 

"I won't have her screwing up my business any more than she already has," he declared. "The information says she has a child."

"A daughter," Benson affirmed.

"Take the girl," he instructed. "Kill her and leave her somewhere to be found. Make sure her death sends a message. If the child's death doesn't make her back off, kill the detective."

"Yes, sir," Benson agreed. "And Collins?"

"It's your mess," Callaghar dismissed. "Clean it up," he said and disconnected the call.

He would protect his business one way, or another. With all of the violence the police had found themselves apart of recently, it had been easier to take out the problem cops. A shooting here, a gas station robbery there, hell, even a traffic stop had become an easy way of taking them out. He reached out to touch the screen of his iPad, opening the browser, and searched the detective's name. He arched a brow at the pictures that appeared of her with a club owner, finding amusement at the man's name. 

"Lucifer Morningstar," he spoke the man's name aloud with a chuckle. "Well, Lucifer, prepare yourself. I'm about to show you what the devil's really about."

**~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~**

Mazikeen studied Chloe from across the hot tub as the woman sipped at the wine she'd been given. The way her brows furrowed in thought, and her eyes lost focus, told Mazikeen that the mortal woman was more than a bit distracted by whatever it was that held her mind captive. She had been surprised to say the least at how easily Chloe had adapted to learning the truth of everything, and she wondered if perhaps that was the issue. Was it possible that Chloe hadn't adapted as well as she thought?

Her brow lifted and fell in a shrug as she decided to give her theory a test. Moving closer to Amenadiel, she slipped behind him in the water, and moved her hands to space between his shoulder blades. It took little effort to find the sweet spot between his wings, and she pressed her face against his back seconds before she dragged her teeth over his sensitive skin. The water crashed and roared with the force of his wings unfurling and spreading out in a full extension, his eyes flaring wide as his dark gaze was drown out by the white light of his power.

"Maze! Really?" Lucifer admonished her actions. "Turn my brother into bloody Big Bird, and now half the water's gone," he complained, but it was Chloe's amused laughter that drew her attention. 

"What?" she asked with mock innocence, a grin curling her lips. "We're out of wine," she observed, her gaze locked with Chloe's as Amenadiel and Lucifer returned to their conversation. "And earlier today, I found a cheesecake Lucifer was hiding in the back of the fridge." 

Mazikeen watched as Chloe's eyes lit with delight, and moved out from behind Amenadiel as she reached for the stairs. Nodding back, she watched as Chloe braced her palms against the lip of the stone surrounding the hot tub. Chloe closed her eyes as she bent her knees before giving a hard push and lifting herself up onto the ledge of the tub. Her side still hurt, the bruises still present, but the pain wasn't as bad as it had once been. Had it truly only been a week since she had been attacked, she wondered, and looked down when she felt Lucifer's hand on her knee.

"You can't be leaving me already," he pouted, moving in the water to stand between her legs as he faced her. "I haven't even started my story yet," he reminded her, and Chloe smiled when he studied her gaze.

She knew what he was looking for. He was still afraid in some manner that she would turn away from him, or be afraid of him, but she wouldn't. His true face didn't frighten her. Anger, sorrow, rage at the injustice of it all, those things she felt when she remembered the sight of his red face, but not fear. Lifting her hands to his face, she drew her fingertips over his temples and into his hairline as she leaned close for a kiss. It was just a short embrace, but the gesture spoke volumes, and she smiled when he looked at her almost shyly.

He was the devil, she thought, and she was able to effect him so deeply. How they found each other, she would never truly understand. He was an angel. He was immortal, and . . . She glanced down at the curve of his mouth before dipping closer to kiss him once more. He was immortal, she thought again, and she wasn't. If this case killed her, as she often feared it would, what would happen to him? 

"We're just getting something to eat," Chloe assured him, as Mazikeen stepped up the stairs of the hot tub. "We'll be back."

"Don't do anything I wouldn't do," he teased her, and Chloe arched a brow.

"That doesn't leave much out," she shot back with a grin, and he chuckled. "Want anything? Not that," she thwarted him, heading off the sexual teasing in his expression before he could say whatever he was thinking.

"Spoil sport," he pouted, and Chloe laughed.

"Make sure he behaves," Chloe said to Amenadiel, and the angel met her gaze with a wide smile as he laughed. 

"She's good for you, Luci," she heard Amenadiel say as she walked away. 

Chloe's smile fell as she stepped inside the penthouse and walked through toward the bar, her thoughts turning inward. She knew that Mazikeen was still there with her, she could feel the woman's eyes on her, but somehow she still felt alone. What Lucifer had told her wouldn't leave her. 

_"My eyes glow red because the fires of Hell light them out from within. Hell is my domain, and as I am its ruler, it is a part of me."_

It wasn't that she thought what he'd told her had been a lie, but what if it wasn't exactly the entire truth, either. The crimson and white of his skin, the patches that looked almost black, all of that was a burn scar. It was evidence of his fall into Hell. His brother had done that to him willingly, he had told her that much, without giving her any detail. His father, the same being that humans the world over worshipped, had allowed it to happen. She shook her head as the desire to hit his father once again resurfaced. How could anyone claim that they loved someone and then do something like that?

"You've been doing that a lot lately," Mazikeen said, her voice snapping Chloe from her thoughts as they stepped into the kitchen.

"What?" Chloe asked her as she moved to gather a tray from one of the shelves.

"Whatever it is you're thinking about tonight," Mazikeen told her, "it seems pretty intense."

"I asked Lucifer to show me his face, to show me him, and he did," she admitted, and looked up to meet Mazikeen's wide eyed stare. "I'm not afraid of him, I don't think I ever could be," she told her, assuaging her worries. "He's been burned . . . everywhere," she said, helping Mazikeen gather bits of fruit, meats, and cheese to stack on the tray. "How long did it take him to heal, to -"

"His injuries weren't like that," Mazikeen cut her off. "He's not human. His burns weren't raw and festering like a human's would be. They were cauterized as soon as he fell through Hell's fire. He didn't heal so much as he learned to hold the illusion in place of what he looked like before."

"You're saying . . . " Chloe shook her head in horror, wanting to deny what she was being told.

"What you see, what _everyone_ sees is the illusion. Even other angels only see the illusion he perfected, but how he truly looks underneath the mask is what he showed you. There's only one person that I know of who would have the power to heal him, to make the illusion the truth, but I doubt he ever would," she said, and Chloe's jaw moved as she clenched her teeth in anger. 

"It's like that son of a bitch gets some kind of sick thrill out of punishing him," Chloe growled, wanting to scream at the injustice of it all, and weep in agony for Lucifer's torment.

"I know," Mazikeen told her, and released a disbelieving snort. "And I'm supposed to be the evil one because I'm a demon. Don't get me wrong, I'll torture and kill, but I'd never do what He did. It's different if the person is deserving of the torture," she said, and smiled. "That's what your Hollywood movies get wrong," she told Chloe. "We don't torture, or corrupt the innocents. At least Lucifer and I don't," she amended with a tilt of her head. "There's no fun in it. Going after those who think themselves above it all, the ones who believe they can torture and break the innocents and no one will stop them, they are the ones we punish."

Chloe shook her head as she reached for the jar of cookies, adding a few to the tray. It still amused and amazed her that these cookies had come from what Lucifer had referred to as a moment of weakness. Trixie had woken before she had, and instead of wanting to disturb her, Lucifer had taken her daughter into the kitchen and enlisted her help in making cookies to keep her entertained. Moment of weakness, or not, Chloe thought, Lucifer had proven himself to be a more caring and nurturing father than Dan ever had. 

The Lucifer she knew, the man she had grown close to, was nothing like the stories that were written and told. He wasn't evil. He didn't seek the corruption of innocent souls, or try to make someone do something that would forever mark their soul. He punished the guilty. He sought out the truth, and whether he liked to admit it or not, he wanted justice for the innocents who had been wronged. He cared, perhaps not about everyone, but he cared for and protected those closest to him with unquestioned loyalty and affection. It was what had drawn her in, and what she believed had forged such a tight bond between then man and her daughter.

"There's that look again," Mazikeen said, and Chloe blinked at her in confusion before chuckling softly.

"Something Trixie said a few nights ago," Chloe told her with an amused shake of her head, and met Mazikeen's gaze. "If Lucifer and I were to get married, then he could be her dad."

Mazikeen looked at her with wide eyes before choking on the sip of wine she'd drunk from the bottle she held. The bottle was set down with a loud clack as Mazikeen spluttered and coughed before finally falling into a bout of laughter. It wasn't the first time Trixie had said something like that, but it amused them both to no end that the girl had hinted at it around them without ever saying anything to Lucifer directly. 

Marriage wasn't something either of them could see from Lucifer. For one, he was an angel, the Devil, technically. But even if he weren't, and were simply human, Lucifer wasn't the kind of man to get married. Would he pledge to be with her as long as she wanted him to stay? Yes, and he had done so before. Would he stand before a room full of witnesses and pledge the same in front of a priest, or reverend? Most certainly not. 

Chloe grinned as she took the tray of food and followed Mazikeen out of the kitchen. She had been married to Dan, and while the relationship had more than a few pitfalls, the truths of which she had only discovered recently, she didn't really want to be married again. A marriage to Lucifer wouldn't feel as real to her as waking up in his arms, or knowing that he had brought two hounds from Hell to protect her and her daughter. His promises to her when they were alone, the intimate moments they shared, meant more to her than any ceremony, or piece of paper ever would.

She sighed when she realized where her thoughts had taken her. She didn't want Lucifer to be a husband to her, not to say that she wouldn't say yes if he asked, but it wasn't who he was. A marriage, in the traditional sense, was something sanctioned by his father. It was a union between two people that had been blessed by God, and if she were to be honest, she wasn't looking for that, either. What she had already with Lucifer was so much more than a marriage ever could be. 

She didn't want him to stand in front of a priest, before anyone else, and pledge his love to her as though anyone else needed to approve of their relationship. What she wanted was the man who waited for her in the hot tub. The often infuriating, devilishly playful, and unapologetically inappropriate man who spoke his mind, told it like it was no matter who he was talking to, and protected and loved her and her daughter without condition, or compromise. She laughed softly as she admitted the truth to herself, and felt freedom in the silent surrender.

She was in love with the devil himself, and no matter what anyone said, no matter what anyone tried to tell her, she wouldn't turn away from him. Chloe had seen him from the outside and all the way through down to the depths of his soul. She knew what angered him, what strengthened him. She knew his hopes, his fears - not that he would admit to having any, she thought with a grin. She knew _him_ , and everything she saw was beautiful. Even the face that so many called demonic. His scars made him beautiful to her, and she couldn't turn away now even she wanted to. He was too much a part of her to ever let go of.

**~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~**

Amenadiel studied Lucifer quietly as his brother watched Chloe walk away. There was something there between them, something more than had been there before, but he couldn't put his finger on what it was. It was almost as if their souls twined around each other, flowing together as one when they were together, and he frowned in thought. He met Lucifer's curious gaze when his brother turned back to him, and he narrowed his eyes as he tried to sort it all out.

"What's changed between you two?" Amenadiel asked after a few moments, and frowned curiously when Lucifer smiled.

"She saw me, my face," Lucifer said, his eyes wide with wonder. "She didn't scream, or go mad."

"Wait," Amenadiel said with wide eyes. "Your face? The red face, the Devil, she saw that? Why the Hell would you show her that?"

"She asked," he responded with a shrug. "She asked, and as much as I may have wanted to, I couldn't deny her. She didn't even flinch."

"You're kidding," Amenadiel said, and Lucifer chuckled as he shook his head. 

"Brave to a fault, she is," he said with a laugh. 

"Damn," Amenadiel said with approval. "I said it before, Luci, and I'll say it again. She's good for you."

"That she is," Lucifer said, and turned around at the sound of footsteps. "Bring a feast, did you?" he asked Chloe with amusement, and watched her scrunch her nose as she teased him silently. "I figured either you, or Beatrice would find that," he said as he eyed the slices of cheesecake on the tray.

"Maze found it, not me," Chloe told him, handing him the tray before sitting down on the side of the hot tub.

"What the hell?" Amenadiel said as he moved across the tub toward Chloe. "When did this happen?" he asked as he pushed her shirt up to see more of the bruising along her side.

"About a week ago," she told him. "It's still sore, but it doesn't hurt nearly as much as it once did."

"The ones behind this mess," Lucifer told him, "want her to stop her investigation." 

Anger clouded Amenadiel's features as he turned back to Chloe, studying her injury. He looked up to meet her eyes when she touched his shoulder, and returned her smile with a nod of understanding. It explained Lucifer's desire to have the hellhounds brought here. He had seen the bruising on her face the night he had come to take Mazikeen to get the hounds, but he hadn't known the injury extended beyond that. To see it in full made him furious with those who thought they had any right to hurt her in such a manner. 

"This warning," Chloe said, and bit her lip as she slipped into the tub. "It's actually a good thing. It means I'm close to breaking this whole thing wide open. If I were off base, or searching in the wrong direction, they wouldn't care enough to send this message. The fact that they did means I'm closer than I thought I was."

"Only you would see being attacked as a good thing," Lucifer told her with a disbelieving shake of his head, as Amenadiel watched them with interest.

"I don't know," she teased him, grinning as she met his gaze. "I got two dogs out of the deal, and Trixie and I moved in with you," she remarked with humor. "Your kitchen is much nicer than mine was."

"Only the kitchen?" he asked her, and Chloe smiled as she teased him.

"You're right," she said with a slow nod. "Having a fully stocked bar at my fingertips is wonderful."

"Bar?!" he repeated with disbelief, and Chloe threw her head back as she laughed. "Bloody tease."

"You like it when I tease you," she tossed back at him, and gasped when stepped closer to stand in front of her, the water moving around them in shallow waves.

"Perhaps I do," he teased in return as he leaned closer, and reached behind her.

He leaned closer to her, his face inches from hers, only to pull back with a piece of cheese in his hand and returned to lean against the wall of the tub, a wicked smile twisting his lips. Amenadiel laughed as he watched them, and turned to Mazikeen. He nodded to her, affirming that he saw the same amusement she did, and watched as she relaxed back in the water with a satisfied smile. He turned back to find Chloe looking at him as though she couldn't quite figure something out, and grinned as he asked for her question.

"Where do your wings go?" she asked, and he chuckled.

"I can will them to be unseen," he told her, and winked as spread them to show her they were still there before hiding them away. "The same way Hunter and Shadow can disappear from sight. Or Mazikeen, and Lucifer for that matter. Just one of those gifts," he said with an arch of his brow. "Speaking of which," he said, and nodded behind her.

Chloe turned around, and shook her head. Trixie was barely awake, the girl riding Shadow as the hellhound stepped toward them. She seemed to be waking more often lately, and Chloe had a feeling that she knew the cause for it. She had seen the number of outgoing calls her daughter had made to Dan's cell phone, and from the call times, she also knew that he hadn't answered a single one of them. 

"Hey baby," she greeted her daughter, and watched as the girl rubbed her loose fist against her eye. 

Trixie mumbled something too low for her to hear as Shadow stepped closer to the edge of the hot tub and laid down, resting her head in between her paws. The young girl on her back sighed tiredly as she leaned forward and curled up on the hellhound's back, her face half hidden in the thick fur. Chloe lifted her hand out of the water, smoothing her daughter's hair back from her face, and smiled sadly as she watched her return to sleep. She hated the pain Dan was causing her, but didn't know how to fix it. 

"Chloe?" Lucifer asked as he stepped through the water to stand beside her, and studied the sleeping child with a frown. 

"She's been trying to call Dan, ever since he was released from jail. Before he . . . " Chloe looked down and sighed. "Before he showed his true colors. He won't answer any of her calls, or her texts," she said, and looked up to meet Lucifer's frown. "Or her emails. He's ignoring her, and she doesn't understand why. Mom won't answer her calls, either. Or mine."

"Why hasn't she said anything?" Lucifer asked as he lifted his hand to touch the girl's back, tucking her hair behind her ear as she slept on top of her hellhound.

"Because she still thinks it's her fault," Chloe told him, her voice an aching whisper. "I saw one of the emails she sent him. She apologized so many times, promised him that if he would tell her what she did wrong, she'd never do it again. There have been so many times lately that I have wished I was a single mother from the start simply to save her this pain. She doesn't deserve this," she whispered, tears in her eyes.

"No, she doesn't," Lucifer agreed, his voice hard and angry. "Neither of you do."

"'ucifer," Trixie mumbled, her eyes barely open as she frowned. 

Trixie rubbed her eye as she moved just enough to tuck the arm she had draped over Shadow's side behind her, underneath her, and Lucifer released a breath of amusement to see the devil bear sticking out from the space between her stomach and Shadow's fur. He touched her cheek before resting his hand on her back, and watched the girl's mouth tug up in a tired smile before her eyes closed once more. He knew the way Trixie felt wasn't new by any means, but only a deepening of what she already felt. He could still feel the ghost of her crying in his arms when he thought back to the night he'd given her the bear. All she wanted to know was why her father didn't want her, and it was the one answer he couldn't give her. 

"Are you still awake, darling?" Lucifer asked, and watched Trixie's eyes open slowly. "Set the bear down," he instructed her. "It won't fair well in the water. I was about to tell your mother a story, would you like to hear it?" he asked, and watched her nod as she sat up slowly. 

Lucifer smiled affectionately as he watched Trixie hand the bear to Shadow when the beast turned her head back to look at her charge. Shadow took the bear from her and turned her head, dropping the stuffed toy between her paws before laying her head down on top of it. Reaching up for the girl, Lucifer caught her easily when she leaned toward him, and held her to his chest as he turned to lean back against the wall of the hot tub. Bowing his head to kiss the child's hair, he rubbed her back when she tucked her head under his chin. 

"I haven't been home in a very long time," Lucifer said with a heavy sigh, and stroked Trixie's hair when she snuggled closer to him. "It's not really _my home_ anymore. Hell is," he said, his brows rising and falling in a shrug. 

"Each person - human soul," Amenadiel clarified, "has their own personal Heaven. You create it for yourself. For some it's a favorite memory, for others, they share their Heaven with another. It's incredibly rare, and only happens among soul mates, but it is possible and beautiful."

"Human souls are presented with three doors," Lucifer told Chloe, and tipped his head down to look at the child in his arms. 

"What kind of doors?" Trixie asked, turning her head up to meet his gaze, and smiled tiredly when he kissed her brow.

"There's the pearly gates that pass into the Silver City, there is the door made of gold and jewels, and then there is a plain door made of wood. It's smooth and has a clean finish, but there is no polish, or grandeur," he told her, and looked up at her mother. "The pearly gates lead into a Heaven you create for yourself. Aminiel," he said, and chuckled as he looked down at Trixie. "Or Ami as she's sometimes called, is there to help each soul learn how to create their own Heaven. Help them understand where they are. She appears to them as a friend, a trusted loved one, whoever it is the soul wishes to see."

"The gold door," a new voice said, and Lucifer turned his head to see Gabriel approaching them, his wings folding back as he tucked them away and willed them to be unseen. "Is a door that allows that soul to return here to the mortal plane, to live again in a new life. To start over," he said, and nodded to Chloe before turning his eyes to each of his brothers, and Mazikeen in turn. "I heard the story," he said, looking back to Lucifer as he offered an explanation for his presence. "You always did tell the best stories," he said as he moved to sit on the stone bench to the left of the hot tub.

Lucifer nodded quietly. "The third door made of plain wood," he said as he continued. "Leads into the Heaven that we know, the place of the angels and of God."

"What is God like?" Trixie asked, her voice curious and quiet as she kept her head tucked under Lucifer's chin. "Is he really big and friendly like Santa, or is he little and mean like a Leprechaun?" 

Neither Lucifer, or either of his brothers could hold back their laughter at her innocent question, Chloe and Mazikeen smiling with humor. Lucifer kissed her hair as he chuckled, and hugged her close when she snuggled against him. 

"God is . . . Difficult to describe," Lucifer said, and arched a brow in amused curiosity at the dark look of anger on Chloe's face. "There are some who say He's kind and benevolent, and others who would love to give Him a bloody good right hook," he teased as he looked at Chloe. "Personally, I think He's a bit of an arse," he said, and looked down when Trixie giggled. "Liked that, did you?" he asked her.

"Mhmm," she hummed as she nodded her head against his chest.

"They say He does everything for a reason, some grand plan, but only the fool trusts blindly," Lucifer said, a sour note in his tone, and sighed. "I was nothing like I am now, back then," he told them. "I believed, quite foolishly, that my father . . . " he trailed off as he looked down at the child in his arms, and decided to forgo that part of his story. 

"We created music together," Gabriel spoke up, a smile of wistful remembrance tipping his lips up at the edges. "Lucifer was once known as Samael, the light bringer," he said as he joined in the story. "He lit the stars, brought the brilliance of the heavens into the universe," he said, and looked up at the constellations decorating the night sky. "We would turn the wind together, directing it through the long grasses and trees, creating music and a language all our own."

"You two were close?" Chloe asked him, beginning to understand why the relationship Lucifer had with Gabriel seemed so much more complicated than the one he had with Amenadiel.

"As close as twins," Gabriel said. "That was until Michael crafted the great deception," he told her with a sad grin. "But I'm skipping ahead," he said, and turned his attention to his brother, meeting Lucifer's gaze. 

"Father created the humans last," Lucifer said, and offered a short laugh. "Your scientists have evolution right and wrong," he told Chloe. "The two human-like species to come before man were tests of a kind. Father was allowing the apes to evolve on their own, to see what would become of them when given a nudge to be something more. The problem was, they didn't have the capacity for speech. They grunted, they fought, they talked like animals, but they couldn't create speech. And so He created man, or homosapien sapiens," he said with grin, his breath drawing in to roll at the back of his throat. 

"How?" Trixie asked, and Lucifer smiled down at the drowsy girl in his arms. 

She was too interested in the story to sleep, but too tired to be set on her own. He didn't mind holding her, there was a kind of comfort to be gained from keeping her close, feeling the small puffs of air against his skin as she breathed, her warmth as he held her. She was innocent, and pure, so young still that he would give almost anything to protect her. He looked up at the feel of Chloe's stare, and met her affectionate grin with a smile of his own.

"Father gave evolution a nudge, and then decided to take matters into His own hands when it didn't turn out exactly as He wanted. He created Adam first, kept him in Heaven with the angels, as He set about creating his wife. Lilith was Father's first attempt, but she didn't go exactly according to plan. Mother may have had something to do with that. Eve was next, and she was perfect, or so Father said," Lucifer said, his voice gentle and swaying as he wove the story. "Each angel has a power, a gift from Father. Father's gift to me was the ability to pull a person's desire from them, to get them to reveal their deepest darkest desire, whatever they wanted, whatever they craved. The more He told me that humans were perfect, the more I wondered why He gave me this gift."

Lucifer sighed as he shook his head, and closed his eyes before he resumed his tale.

"I went to the Garden," he said. "I stepped up to Eve and asked her what she wanted," he told them. "She said she wanted an apple. The Forbidden Fruit." He sighed heavily as he closed his eyes. "I asked her why she didn't take it if she wanted it," he said after a few minutes. "She looked at me as though I had said something that she hadn't thought of. Then . . . She stepped up to the tree, and took the apple. She ate the fruit, but it wasn't enough. She wanted more."

"That was when Father cast Adam and Eve to earth," Gabriel said, as he nodded slowly, his body bent forward, his elbows resting on his knees. "That was when everything went South, as they say," he said with an arch of his brow. "Mother became jealous of the humans. She hated the attention Father gave to His creations. It was a game to her, to make them kill themselves, or each other."

"I spent most of my time in Father's library, wanting to read, to learn, to create," Lucifer said as he picked up where Gabriel had left off. "Then one day, I learned that the humans had developed their own language, and I was fascinated. I went to earth, spent a lot of time among the humans of that era. I listened to them sing," he said, and laughed. "Some did not have the talent for it, but they tried anyway. I wanted to know what they wanted," Lucifer said. "I began drawing out their desires," he told Chloe. "It offended Father in some regard. I never compelled them to do anything they didn't want to, but for some reason, He didn't like me using the gift He'd given me on them. And so, one day, I asked Him a question."

Lucifer sighed heavily as he thought back to that moment, back to the time when he had truly loved and believed in his father. Back to a time when he believed his father had believed in him. How was it that he had been able to separate himself from the emotions of his past, but when he looked at Chloe, everything felt raw and aching? He held out his arm to her, and smiled when she moved to stand against his side, cuddling against him in the water. Turning his head, he kissed her temple, before resuming his story.

"I asked Him why He gave the humans free will, but left us - angels - bound," he said, and breathed in deeply. "Father took my question as an insult, or an affront, or . . . whatever He chose to take it as. Not long after, Mother had tainted her first human soul, encouraging the man to kill his wife and beat his children. Three souls went to Heaven, but the man's soul was evil, and that moment, Father made me create Hell."

He spoke slowly as he told of how he had tried to resist his Father's wishes. The thought of creating a world that was dark and designed only for the eternal torment of evil souls was horrifying to him. He hadn't wanted to do it, but his father had commanded Michael and Raphael to bind him in the chains of creation in order to direct his power how and where it was needed. His father hadn't told him he was meant to rule Hell, only that he was to create it. It was a place he had never wanted to go, and so the first human souls to find themselves there were locked away in Hells of their own creation. 

Michael had heard him question their father. Jealousy had always been his brother's downfall. Michael wanted the ability to create, but had not been given the gift of doing so. He wanted to be able to pull a person's desire from them in order to punish them for wanting it, regardless of whatever that desire might be. In his brother's own words, humans were their father's greatest mistake. He began the rumors, spread word of a war that Lucifer had no knowledge of, and before he even had time to understand what was happening, he was being cast out by his father and condemned to Hell by his brother.

"That's when you were burned," Chloe said as she lifted her hand to touch her fingertips to his jaw.

Lucifer nodded as he met her gaze. "That's when I met Maze," he told her, and looked at his demon. 

Lucifer frowned as he watched Amenadiel turn his attention to Chloe, and looked past him to see Gabriel's attention riveted on her as well. He turned back to look at Chloe, but didn't see anything out of the ordinary. She looked relaxed, if not a bit sad, but with both his brothers still focused on her, it told him that they were hearing a prayer he couldn't. He kissed her temple as he wondered what she was saying.

_He may be your son_ , Chloe thought, her focus directed to a God she had never believed in, and only allowed belief of now as Lucifer's father. _But you have never deserved him. He is kind, and beautiful, and more compassionate than anyone I know. He is playful and teasing, yes, but he is a good man. He has been a better father to Trixie than her own father ever was. You will never be deserving of his love, or his trust, but maybe - just maybe - you can earn his forgiveness. If there is any part of you that is kind, or good, as so many believe you to be, then you will prove it by giving him back his wings. I won't let anyone hurt him, and I especially, will not allow you to hurt him anymore than you already have. He is a far better man that you ever could be. And maybe someday you'll realize what you lost._


	22. Chapter 21 "Little Girl Lost"

AN: Lucifer and all recognizable characters belong to Jerry Bruckheimer and FOX television. Set post 'Take Me Back to Hell'. . (Written prior to the start of season 2.)

 

Summary: There is only one thing that can make an immortal vulnerable, only one thing that can hurt an angel aside from another angel - their mate. It was only a rumor, a baseless myth, something Amenadiel had never believed, until it happened to Lucifer.

****

Memento Mori  


Chapter 21

  
**  
**_"Little Girl Lost"_  
  


by WhisperingWolf

Trixie closed her eyes as she curled against Shadow's side, and buried her face in her hellhound's thick dark fur. She was tired all the time, but just as with everything else, she had learned to hide it away. Around her mother and Lucifer, she could pretend to be happy, pretend to be energetic. It was almost a game of sorts now, playing happy and hyper for them when all she wanted to do was cry. Shadow whined low as she laid her tail over Trixie's legs, and turned her head back to form a protective circle around the girl. 

It wasn't fair to them, and she knew it, but pretending to be okay wasn't really the same as lying. She wasn't hurting anyone, or being mean. She just couldn't tell her mother, and the new family they had formed, how much it hurt that the calls and texts to her father went unanswered. To tell them that it hurt, it was the same as telling them that they weren't enough, and she didn't want to do that. Everyday Lucifer sat with her at the piano, even if it was only for a few minutes, and helped her learn more of the song he'd been teaching her. Mazikeen worked with her in the gym, teaching her to fight, and even how to escape being captured. Even Amenadiel would sit with her sometimes and read to her, or tell her funny stories.

How could she tell any of them that what she really wanted was to hear her father's voice, to talk to him? Tears stung at her eyes as she turned her face into Shadow's fur. She didn't want to cry, not here, not where someone might see. Her breath hitched as she tried to stop the tears, only to realize that she was already crying, and it was too late to stop. She felt Shadow curl closer, her nose nudging against her side, but she couldn't quiet her tears. 

Maybe . . . Maybe this time would be different, she thought as she pulled back and swiped her sleeve over her eyes. Maybe he would answer her. Trixie turned, resting back against Shadow as she reached for her backpack and pulled her phone from the front pocket. Sniffling as she activated the screen, she bit her lip and opened the call log. The number thirty-seven sat next to the contact marked as "Daddy" in her recent call list, but not a single one had been answered. Tears filled her eyes as she stared at the screen. 

Taking in a deep breath, she tapped on his contact information, and then on his phone number. She lifted the phone to her ear as she bit her lip, and waited. It rang once . . . twice . . . three times, before finally being answered by his voicemail recording. It hurt so much, she thought, like someone had kicked her in the chest, but she did her best to force it back. She had learned how to hide her hurt from watching her mother do it. So many times she had seen her parents fight, watched as her father had left the house, and gone to her mother, only to watch the woman quickly hide her tears and force her pain away.

"Hi Daddy," Trixie spoke to his voicemail, her voice a bit choked. "It's Trixie. I know I keep calling, but . . . Daddy I've thought about everything . . . The last time I saw you . . . I don't know what I did. I'm really sorry, Daddy. I promise I won't do it again, if you tell me what it was I did." She sniffled as she wiped her sleeve across her eyes. "I'm taking a bunch of tests at school. They want to see where I fit. They're pretty easy, and I - I know that I haven't been paying much attention, but I promise I'll do better!" she said in a rush. "I'll work really hard on the next tests, Daddy! I promise! I'll get every question right, and then . . . " The phone beeped, a voice telling her that the system had stopped recording her message. She could press one to send it as important, or disconnect the call. "Maybe you'll be proud of me again," she whispered as she pressed the end call button, and lowered the phone to her lap. "I didn't mean to be bad."

She frowned as she heard the voices at a distance, and looked up to see two of the girls from her class talking. Classes must have let out, she thought as she looked down at her phone to check the time. There was still another test her teacher said she needed to take today. She didn't mind staying late. She wasn't here that much lately anyway, only coming in to take the tests and then coming back in when another set was ready. The girls walked closer, talking to each other and acting as though they couldn't see her, but Trixie knew they could.

"Did you see Trixie in class today?" Carla asked as she looked at the girl walking next to her, and Trixie watched the girl flip her dark hair as she'd seen her mother do before.

"Only long enough to put her bag in the cubby and leave," Brittney replied with a snort. "She's too good for classes anymore. My mommy said her mommy is with some rich guy now. Trixie doesn't have to go to school anymore because he bought her out of it. At least that's what mommy says."

"My mom said it's all her mother's fault," Carla said in return. "She said it's disgraceful. A mommy should be a mommy, not run around playing with guns and bad people. A mommy is supposed to be at home. It's a clear sign that they didn't want Trixie," she said haughtily, and stuck her little nose in the air. "My mommy's always at home waiting for me. She makes me cookies, and cleans my room, and helps me with my homework. My daddy reads to me at night, and plays tea party with me."

"I guess my mom was right," Brittney responded. "My mommy said that too many babies are mistakes. A mommy who wants a baby will always be right there with their baby, no matter what. But a mommy who didn't want to be a mommy will work as much as she can just to be away from their mistake."

Carla giggled. "You can always tell the mistakes," she said, the girls walking away as they continued to pretend that Trixie hadn't been close enough to hear them.

"I'm not a mistake," Trixie whispered as she curled closer to Shadow. "Mommy said so," she said as tears stung at her eyes, and slipped slowly down her cheeks. "I'm not a mistake."

She hadn't known how to tell her mother about what the kids in her class were saying, so she simply hadn't said anything at all. The older girl who made fun of her with a fake SnapChat account, that girl she'd had no problem kicking and putting in her place. But this? They weren't making fun of her. They were just saying things their parents had said. It wasn't really bullying, was it? She closed her eyes as she curled deeper into Shadow's side, hiding in her fur. 

Trixie looked up at the feel of something dripping on her cheek, and frowned at the rain drops falling through the boughs of the tree above her. She didn't care that it was raining. Tucking her phone into her lunch bag to keep it from getting wet, she zipped her lunch bag inside her backpack, and leaned back against Shadow's side. All she really wanted to do was sleep, and she didn't care if she got wet, or not. Closing her eyes as she curled close to her hellhound, her knees tucked against her chest, she laid her head on the pillow of black fur and closed her eyes.

Trixie groaned as she rubbed at her eyes with her fists, and slumped back against Shadow as she stared out at the world around her through the fringe of her lashes. She was still tired, her eyes blinking slowly as she tried to figure out what had woken her, and why it was so dark. Maybe the rain was going to turn into a storm, she thought, as she turned back to Shadow and closed her eyes once more. She whimpered when the sound of running footsteps drew her attention, and frowned tiredly when she heard someone call her name.

"I told you she was alright, Detective," she heard Lucifer say, her frown deepening as she tried to understand why her mother seemed upset. "Shadow would never let anything happen to her."

"'ucifer," Trixie mumbled tiredly as she looked up, and blinked in confusion when Chloe knelt in front of her. "Mommy?" 

"Oh God, baby," her mother said, her voice shaking as she was lifted from the ground, and held in her mother's arms. "What were you doing out here?"

"I got tired," she told them, laying her head on her mother's shoulder. "I have another test."

"Not today, moppet," Lucifer told her as he stepped close enough to touch her hair. "Your teacher called us when she couldn't find you. Have you been sleeping against Shadow this whole time?" he asked her, and Trixie nodded against her mother's shoulder. 

"How could they not see her?" Chloe whispered fiercely to Lucifer, and Trixie rubbed her fist against her eye. "Shadow's huge!"

"Perhaps so, but when she forms a tight circle as they were, Detective," Lucifer said reasonably, "only those Shadow trusts would have been able to see them. They may have seen a dark area on the ground and dismissed it as a shadow from the tree. Shadow will always protect her. A hellhound's loyalty is unquestioned."

"Are you hungry, baby?" Chloe asked as she rubbed her back, and Trixie frowned as she snuggled closer.

"No," she answered her softly. "I just want to go to bed," she told them as her mother carried her through the park.

"We'll be home soon, darling," Lucifer told her, and she blinked tiredly as she watched her backpack dangle from his hand. "Go to sleep, moppet," he told her as they walked, and she thought she smiled as her eyes fell closed. 

She was mostly asleep by the time they reached the car. She could still hear their voices, but wasn't awake enough to understand what they were saying. Trixie moaned softly when she was lowered to the car, and felt something warm wrapped around her, a smile tugging at her lips when she smelled Lucifer's scent. He always put his jacket on her to keep her warm, she thought as she snuggled deeper into the coat that was longer than she was. 

"Shadow," Trixie called out in a mumbled whisper as she searched for her companion.

"She'll be waiting for us when we get home, darling," Lucifer called back to her as the car slowed. "Go to sleep now," he soothed her, and Trixie felt her body grow heavy as the darkness of sleep rose up to claim her. 

Trixie whimpered as she was jostled from sleep, her eyes opening and closing as she was lifted from the car and held against Lucifer's shoulder. No matter what happened, he always made her feel safe, and she snuggled closer as he stroked her hair. She sighed heavily when he encouraged her to go back to sleep, and felt him kiss her hair as he carried her. A breeze blew past them as he walked with her, and she shivered, only to feel his arms tighten gently around her as she was surrounded by warmth. Turning her head, Trixie tucked her face against the warmth of his throat, and breathed in his scent as she returned to a light slumber. 

"Darling," Lucifer called to her as he rubbed her back, and Trixie lifted her head as she blinked up at him tiredly. "Look who's waiting for you," he told her, and she smiled sleepily to see Shadow standing in front of them. 

She leaned her cheek against his shoulder as he walked through the penthouse, carrying her back to her bedroom. He soothed her as he lowered her to her bed, and kissed her forehead as took off her shoes and sweater. It was getting cooler outside as it neared October, and she thought she smiled as she listened to him talk to her mother. The bed dipped on either side of her, and she sighed tiredly as she opened her eyes just enough to see her mother and Lucifer sitting next to her. 

"You're home now, baby," Chloe said as she bent down over her to kiss her forehead. 

"'m tired," she mumbled, and watched her mother smile sadly.

"I know, baby," her mother answered. "You go to sleep, ok?"

"Shadow," Trixie called out, not wanting to sleep without knowing where her friend was.

"She's right here, moppet," Lucifer told her, and she whimpered when he stood from the bed, only to smile tiredly when Shadow climbed up on the large bed next to her. 

"Puppy," Trixie mumbled as she curled toward the hellhound. 

"Sleep well, darling," Lucifer bid of her, trialing his finger down her cheek as her mother stood from the bed.

**~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~**

Chloe looked up from the file in front of her, able to feel Lucifer's eyes on her, and arched a brow in silent question. She knew that going through paperwork was boring as hell, and boring was something Lucifer was not good with. Once the report was finished they could leave the station and return to the investigation that held both their focus, but first came the report. Her hand shot out across the desk as she grabbed the cup of pencils from him and pulled it away.

"No," she told him simply, remembering the last time he had been stuck with her while she filed paperwork.

"This is boring!" he complained, and she laughed at his tone. "At least let me have a little fun," he whined, and she shook her head.

"And let you get even more pencils stuck in the ceiling?" she asked as she looked at him pointedly. "There are two dozen wooden pencils stuck in the tiles above our heads, and you want me to let you throw more up there to get stuck?" she asked him.

"It'd be more entertaining than this!" he complained, and sat back with a huff as he crossed his arms. "I could always play with your coworkers," he teased her as he looked around the precinct, only to sigh at the unattractive aging men left behind with them. "Or not," he amended. 

"Of all the days for Trixie to be taking the split-level testing," Chloe said with a sigh. "She won't be done until at least six. I swear, I should start bringing board games for you," she told him, only half joking.

"You could always take off your clothes," he teased her with a salacious grin, and leaned forward as he rested his elbow on her desk. "I wouldn't mind watching you do paperwork if you were naked," he reasoned, and met her gaze when she looked up.

Chloe could feel her cheeks heat, and ground her teeth together as she tried to keep from laughing. The last thing she needed to do was reward his adolescent behavior. She shook her head as she tried to keep an air of annoyance, but failed miserably when he looked at her with a teasing hopeful expression. She laughed as she shook her head, and tossed a plastic egg at him from the drawer of her desk.

"Play with that," Chloe told him. "I'm fairly certain you can't get in trouble with it."

"What is it?" he asked as he opened the egg.

"Silly Putty," she said, as she returned to the file in front of her, and the report she was typing. 

"Do you have any rubber bands?" he asked her, and Chloe nodded without looking at him as she reached into her desk to hand him one without thinking about why he had requested it.

"Son of a bitch!" she heard one of the older officer's shout from across the room, and looked up with a frown.

The man's hand was on the back of his neck, and Chloe stared at him in confusion. Turning to look at Lucifer, she found him to be lining up another shot, and reached out to grab the rubber band off his hand before he could fire the putty ball. He pouted as she took his makeshift weapon from him, and stared at her with the same puppy dog face he had learned from her daughter.

"Only _you_ could get into trouble with Silly Putty," she told him as she sighed. 

"You did tell me to play with it, Detective," he told her with a grin. "You never said _how_."

She closed her eyes as she sighed, and opened them to meet his gaze. "I've got a book and crayons I keep for Trixie," she offered, and he looked at her as though she'd insulted him.

"I'm not going to sit here and _color_ like a child," he told her, and she threw her hands up in defeat as she sat back against her chair.

"What do you suggest?" she asked, and then tipped her head to the side in regret. "Never mind, I knew I shouldn't have asked that. Hunter's here with me," she told him reasonably. "You can go back to LUX if you'd like."

"No," he said, his tone brooking no argument as he met her gaze. "Hmm," he mused as he stood gracefully from his seat. "I know what I can do," he purred as he stepped around behind her.

"What are you doing?" Chloe asked him as she turned to look at him, only for him to catch her chair and point her toward her computer.

"Continue your report," he instructed her as he gripped her shoulders gently, and began to massage her.

Chloe groaned as he rubbed her shoulders, her head falling forward as he tended to her. She couldn't stay quiet even if she wanted to, and knew the moans and sighs of appreciation she was making sounded a bit more like something to be reserved for the bedroom. He teased her, purring low in her ear, as he told her what she sounded like and offered to give her a more intimate demonstration there in the middle of the bullpen. She thwarted him, her voice low and sultry as she denied him, only to look up at the sound of someone clearing their throat.

"Decker," Olivia met her gaze, amusement in her expression. "Go home, and take him with you," she told her with a shake of her head, and handed her a manila envelope. "Do your report at home, I don't think the boys here can hold it together if he keeps making you make those noises," she teased.

"Yes, ma'am," Chloe said, her cheeks heating in an embarrassed flush.

"And find someone to get those pencils out of my ceiling," she said, and Chloe groaned in dismay as she looked back at the man behind her. 

"I should kick you," Chloe said as she looked at Lucifer with a sigh.

"Do it," he baited her, looking at her as though she were something to eat. "Always did like it rough."

"You're such as ass," she shot back as she stood from her desk, and grabbed her coat. "But you're my ass," she said with a chuckle as she shook her head.

"Am I now?" he asked her teasingly. "I'll have to remember that," he said as she tucked her tablet into her bag. 

"What am I going to do with you?" she asked him as they walked toward the elevator, and felt the ghost of Hunter against her side even as the hellhound remained hidden from sight.

"Are you open for suggestions, darling?" he asked her as the elevator doors closed around them, and looked down at her as he backed her against the walls. "The things I could do to you -"

"Not in this elevator," she cut him off, and watched him pull back with a wicked gleam.

"So there's another elevator we could play in?" he teased her, and laughed when she slapped his chest. "Of course, someone else wants your attention," he said as he stepped back when her phone rang.

"Decker," Chloe answered the call, and listened to the woman on the other end of the line. "No," she said, and met Lucifer's gaze as she grew cold with fear. "What do you mean missing?" she demanded, and looked down when the shadows grew thicker as Hunter appeared next to her. "When was the last time anyone saw her?" she asked as she tried to keep hold of her temper. "We're on our way," she snapped, and disconnected the call. "Trixie's missing," she told Lucifer, and found comfort in the way the center of his eyes glowed red before he blinked the color away. 

"How long has she been missing?" he asked her, touching her shoulder as he reminded her silently not to panic.

"Two hours," she said. "At least, that's the last time they saw her. She had finished the last test and it was her hour and a half break before the next set. Usually she stays in the library, or goes outside to the picnic area, but no one can find her. They called to see if I had picked her up."

She watched Lucifer nod as he took his phone from his pocket. "Maze," he spoke when his call was answered. "Did you happen to get a call from young Beatrice today to gather her from school?" he asked, and met Chloe's gaze as he listened to Mazikeen speak. "Keep us informed," he instructed, and ended the call. "Maze hasn't heard anything, but if she does, she'll let us know."

"What if someone took her?" she asked, her hand burying itself in Hunter's fur as she tried to remain calm.

"They wouldn't dare," he assured her darkly. "Certainly not with Shadow near her. She would tear them apart before allowing any harm to come to her charge," he promised her. "We will find her," he said, and wrapped her in his arms for a brief hug before the elevator doors opened.

  
**~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~**  


Lucifer watched as Chloe spoke with the school official, his brow arching as he watched her nod as she took in the information. Trixie had last been seen leaving the school building by another teacher. From the direction she had been walking, they had assumed she'd gone out to the quad where most of the kids sat to eat lunch outside, or played for recess, but she hadn't been there. They had checked the library, the earth science laboratory, as well as the classroom for one of the teachers who had recently hung the solar system, made of Styrofoam and colored cardstock, from the ceiling. 

There was a park behind the school, and while there weren't many places she could be hiding, they had searched it three times with the teachers remaining. Glancing down at his side, Lucifer met Hunter's gaze, and nodded to Chloe. He watched the hellhound drag his paw against the floor, four deep gouges left in the polished concrete, as he waited impatiently. This time he would not issue the hunt command, but allow Chloe to do it instead. He met her gaze when she turned back to him, and tipped his head before flicking his eyes down to Hunter, and back up to her.

Chloe nodded as she stepped over to them, and he knew she was using her anger to control the fear raging inside of her. He watched her reach for Hunter, the hellhound going to her willingly. She hugged his head to her chest as she tried to calm herself, before cupping his large jaws in her hands, and meeting the hellhound's gaze.

"Hunter," Chloe said, her breath trembling as she feared the worst. "Can you find my baby?"

Lucifer watched with approval as Hunter's eyes glowed red with the acknowledgement and acceptance of her command. Taking Chloe's hand, he pulled her back to stand next to him, and twined his fingers with hers as he bid her to have patience. Hunter was on the trail now, and there was nothing and no one that would be able to stand in his way. He held Chloe's hand as they followed Hunter out of the school building and through the school grounds to the quad out back. 

Hunter sniffed the air before wagging his tail slowly, and turned back to them with a relaxed grin. Lucifer nodded in understanding, and rubbed his thumb against Chloe's hand to soothe her. The hellhound's reactions meant that Shadow was close, and Trixie was with her. The child was safe, and Hunter would lead them to her. Chloe's grip on his hand was desperate, frightened, even as her expression remained calm and focused. 

He walked beside her as Hunter increased his speed to a slow trot and led them across the street to the park. The sun had set a few hours ago, a storm moving in from the East to darken the sky earlier than it normally would, and he watched Chloe look around at each tree as though expecting someone to jump out at her. He spoke to her softly as he comforted her, promised her that Trixie was fine, and assured her that Hunter would lead them right to her. 

It was only a few minutes later when he spotted the dark form beneath the old tree, and lifted his hand, still joined with Chloe's, to point at them. She released his hand immediately, calling her daughter's name as she ran across the leaves and grass to get to her. He watched as the child moved slowly, almost as though she didn't understand where she was, and shook his head at the realization that she'd been sleeping. It was no wonder she hadn't been found by anyone else. If Trixie was asleep, then Shadow would make absolutely certain that no one disturbed her charge.

"I told you she was alright, Detective," Lucifer said as he stepped up to Chloe's side, watching as she fell to her knees in front of her daughter and her hellhound. "Shadow would never let anything happen to her."

"'ucifer?" Trixie mumbled tiredly, and he smiled down at the drowsy child. "Mommy?" she spoke with tired confusion.

"Oh God, baby," Chloe gasped as she reached out to take her daughter in her arms, and Lucifer watched as she stood from the ground with Trixie wrapped in her arms. "What were you doing out here?" she asked her daughter as she looked her over.

"I got tired," Trixie mumbled, as she laid her head on her mother's shoulder and closed her eyes. "I have another test," she told them, her voice barely louder than a whisper.

"Not today, moppet," Lucifer soothed her as he stepped close, and smoothed his hand down her hair. "Your teacher called us when she couldn't find you," he told her when she frowned, her eyes barely open. "Have you been sleeping against Shadow this whole time?" he asked her, and smiled softly when she nodded.

"How could they not see her?" Chloe demanded of him, her voice as fierce whisper as Shadow stood from her place beneath the tree. "Shadow's huge!" she exclaimed.

"Perhaps so," he agreed with her, "but when she forms as tight a circle as they were, Detective," he reasoned with her, "only those Shadow trusts would have been able to see them. They may have seen a dark area on the ground and dismissed it as a shadow from the tree." He touched his hand to her shoulder when she turned to face him. "Shadow will always protect her," he promised sincerely. "A hellhound's loyalty is unquestioned."

Chloe nodded to him as she tightened her hold on Trixie. "Are you hungry, baby?" she asked her as she rubbed her back, and he watched Trixie frown as she snuggled closer to her mother. 

"No," she denied softly, her voice slurred by sleep. "I just want to go to bed," she told them, and Lucifer met Chloe's concerned gaze.

This wasn't the first time the girl had declined food. She'd eaten less of late, and while Chloe had initially chalked up her decline in appetite to the after effects of her growth spurt, he knew better. He could see the dimmer light of the child's soul, knew that she was upset, but just as her mother was, he was waiting for her to come to them. If she didn't want to talk about what was upsetting her, then she wouldn't speak of it when asked. 

"We'll be home soon, darling," he soothed her, and took her backpack from Shadow's jaws. "Go to sleep, moppet," he bid of her softly as he walked beside Chloe, the hellhounds flanking them as they returned to the car.

She was mostly asleep by the time they reached the car, only moving every now and again as she snuggled against her mother. He stood next to his door as he dropped her backpack to the floor behind his seat, and reached for her. Chloe let him take her without much fuss, and he lowered the child gently to the bench seat in the back. He shrugged out of his suit jacket and tucked it around Trixie, kissing her brow as he fastened the seatbelt around her.

He watched her snuggle deeper into his jacket, his lips pulling up at one side in a brief smile, and climbed behind the wheel. Chloe was already in the passenger seat, her attention riveted on the daughter she had thought she'd lost. Starting the car and putting it in gear, he reached for Chloe's hand, and twined his fingers with her as he drove them out of the school's parking lot.

"Shadow," Trixie mumbled tiredly from behind them.

"She'll be waiting for us when we get home, darling," Lucifer promised her as he slowed for the stop sign. "Go to sleep now," he soothed her, an adoring grin twisting his lips when Chloe released his hand to turn back and watch her daughter sleep. "She's alright," he promised her softly. "She's safe, Chloe."

"I was so scared," she admitted, her voice trembling. "Oh, my baby."

"We'll get her home," he told her softly, leaning close to kiss Chloe's cheek before he continued their drive, "we'll put her to bed, and tomorrow, you can spoil her as much as you like."

He watched Chloe shake her head as she took in a trembling breath, a mix of rage and pain lighting her soul aflame. She knew as well as he did that the girl was in emotional pain, and doing what she could to keep them from seeing it. Trixie was trying her best to be strong for them, and whether it was because she was afraid to let them see it, or because she thought she had to hide it, neither of them knew. Something had changed in the past few weeks, something that had darkened her young soul even further, and made her pull into herself even more. 

Lucifer didn't know if she had finally been able to talk to Dan, and he had said something hurtful to her, or if something else had happened, but he needed to fix it. He couldn't bear to see her in pain, and no matter how much she was able to hide it from her mother; he, Amenadiel, and Mazikeen knew the truth because they could see the light of her soul. Slowing the car as he pulled into the parking garage next to LUX, Lucifer parked in his personal spot, and turned off the engine. 

Dan had been dismissive of her from the start, he thought as he turned back in his seat to look at Trixie. Whether he had been given the opportunity to punish Dan, or not, whether the man had _been_ punished, or not, he knew this outcome would have been the same. Dan had simply been looking for an excuse to push Trixie away even more and pretend he held no obligation to her. The longer he and Chloe had worked together, the more he had seen Trixie's elation at having him near, and her equal sadness at the distance her father had put between them. Rejection by one's own father was something he knew all too well, and no matter how old you were, it never made any sense, or lessened the pain of it.

Stepping out of the car, Lucifer leaned over the open backseat and unbuckled Trixie's seatbelt. She whimpered when he lifted her to his shoulder, and he wrapped his arms around her and the makeshift blanket she was covered with. He soothed her gently, rubbing her back as he carried her into the club, Chloe walking next to him. The child in his arms shivered when the door opened as they walked inside, and he held her closer as he pulled on the fires of Hell to heat his body and offer her the added warmth. 

He kissed her cheek when she turned her head to tuck her face into the side of his throat, and followed Chloe into the elevator. The longer he spent with them, the more often he saw that look on Chloe's face, the one that was a mix of love and bittersweet happiness. There was always the mist of tears in her gaze when she looked at him like that, and he reached out to pull her close as he kissed her brow. Seeing him with her daughter always seemed to have the power to make her cry, and he understood the reason for it. He knew she had never believed Trixie would ever know the true love of a father, she had told him that herself once. He loved the child, yes, he could admit that to himself, but he wasn't her father. He was just a man, a fallen angel turned Devil himself, who loved her and her mother.

"Darling," he called to Trixie as he rubbed her back when the elevator doors opened. "Look who's waiting for you," he told her when she lifted her head, and nodded behind her.

He watched Trixie smile tiredly when she caught sight of Shadow, and rubbed her back when she rested her head against his shoulder once more. Lucifer carried her through the penthouse, Chloe following behind him. Shadow moved ahead of him, nudging the door of Trixie's room open with her nose, and Lucifer stepped through toward the bed. Sitting down on the side of the bed, he offered a fleeting smile of thanks to Chloe when she pulled back the bed coverings, and laid Trixie down on the pillows.

She was mostly asleep, barely awake at all, as he took off her shoes, and tipped her up to remove her sweater. Laying her back gently on the bed, he released her hair from the barrettes that held it back from her face at her temples, and kissed her brow. He covered her with the thickness of the sheets and blankets as Chloe sat next to Trixie opposite him. The woman smoothed her hand over her daughter's hair, watching the child as she returned to sleep.

"You're home now, baby," Chloe said, soothing her daughter as much as she was reassuring herself, and bent down over her to kiss her forehead.

"'m tired," Trixie mumbled, and Lucifer released an amused breath as he brushed the backs of his fingers over her downy soft cheek.

"I know, baby," Chloe said. "You go to sleep, ok?"

"Shadow," Trixie called for her hellhound, and Lucifer stood from the bed.

"She's right here, moppet," he promised her, and motioned for Shadow to get on the bed.

"Puppy," he heard Trixie mumble as she turned and tucked herself against the beast's side.

Lucifer stepped over to the other side of the bed where Chloe sat, knowing she'd sit there the whole night and watch the girl sleep, if he let her. 

"Sleep well, darling," Lucifer bid of Trixie as he trailed the back of his finger over her cheek. "Come on, Chloe," he whispered to her mother. "Let her rest," he told her, and wrapped his arm around her shoulders when she stood from the bed.

"I hate him more each day for the way he hurts her like this," she whispered to him, tears in her eyes as she looked back at her daughter. 

"As do I, Detective," he told her softly. "Nothing that we can do will make Daniel change the way he is toward her."

"You're more of a father to her than Dan ever was," she told him as she stood in the circle of his arms, watching Trixie sleep from the doorway of her room.

"I'm not her father, darling," he denied her gently, his lips pulling up to one side in a fleeting grin. "I'm just the man who loves her."

"Isn't that what a father is?" Chloe asked him in return, and he released a breathy laugh as he sighed with amusement.

"There are some who would argue that point," he told her, and kissed her brow when she looked up at him. "Come on," he said, and tipped his head toward the hall. "Shadow will keep her safe," he promised her, and led Chloe from the room, pulling the door almost closed behind them, leaving it open just enough for Shadow to pull it open if she wanted.

  
**~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~**  


Shadow lifted her head from where she laid next to Trixie, her body wrapped around the child, and turned to look behind her as Hunter stepped into the room silently. She whined low, calling him closer, as she returned her attention to her charge. She knew the girl was hurting, it was in her soul as well as in her scent. Stretching her neck out in order to nuzzle her cheek against his, she greeted Hunter with a low sad whine, and watched as he pulled back to look at her charge.

A soft rolling growl came from him, the sound ending with a chuff, and Shadow tipped her head down as she gently nuzzled the sleeping child away from her. She moved slowly, scooting off the bed as Hunter moved to take her place. There was a paper she had seen her charge holding, and while she may not know what the thing said, she did know that each time Trixie looked at it she seemed to grow that much sadder. The last time the girl had looked at it, she had torn it twice and crumpled the pieces into a ball in the bottom of her bag.

Looking back to the bed, Shadow tipped her head as she watched her charge curl into Hunter's side. She turned her attention back to her task at hand, and searched the room, only to leave when she determined the bag wasn't there. Her steps were slow as she followed the trail of her charge's energy around the penthouse until she came to the main room. There, by the couch, sat the girl's backpack, and she moved quietly to gather it. 

She growled softly in annoyance to find it closed tight, and pressed down on one of the straps as she carefully gripped the front of it with her teeth. Making certain her hold was tight, she pulled slowly until she heard the bag rip, and felt it tear open. Nudging the bottom of the bag with her nose, she bopped it a few times, only to growl when the contents remained inside. Grasping the bottom of the bag with her teeth, she upended the bag and shook it until it was empty. 

"Shadow!" Lucifer snapped at her, and she turned her head to look at him as her ears folded back. "What the bloody hell are you doing?" he asked her, and she whined low in response as she turned back to the strewn contents.

Looking over the items until she found the crumpled ball of red and black paper, she lifted it in her teeth and turned to drop it in her master's outstretched hand. She knew he understood that she had a reason for her destruction. Hellhounds were not like mortal dogs, their intelligence was far greater than the smartest of the canine pets of this world. Turning to sit on her haunches, she waited patiently as Lucifer unfolded the paper and pieced the flyer back together.

Lucifer sighed as he looked at the paper, and closed his eyes in dismay. The date on this was almost three weeks old, and the date of the event had passed last weekend. It explained the change in the girl, and why Trixie had been more withdrawn. No matter how she tried to hide it, her upset had been clear and now he knew why. 

"Thank you," he offered his gratitude to Shadow, and scratched her behind her ears. "Go back to your charge," he instructed her, and watched as she stepped away. 

Trixie would be needing a new backpack, he thought as he looked down at what remained of her Miami Doude bag. He set the torn flyer aside before he knelt down to clean the mess left by Shadow. If only hellhounds had opposable thumbs, he thought with a sigh. His brows furrowed when he grasped her insulated lunch bag, and felt the contents inside. Opening the bag, he pulled back with a grimace and retrieved her phone before he dumped the lunch bag and the remains of the backpack in the trash. 

She was too much like her mother, he thought as he released the breath he'd been holding. When Chloe was upset, food was the last thing that she wanted, and it appeared her daughter was the same. She had eaten nothing of what had been packed for her, and he wondered when the last time was that she had eaten on her own when she hadn't been with them. Stepping back across the room, he returned to sit on the couch, and leaned forward to grab the pieces of the crumpled flyer. 

"A father daughter dance," he read as he considered the images on the flyer. 

The dance was over, there was no time to prepare for it, or take her to it, but maybe he could do something a little bit better. If she was upset because she believed herself to be abandoned by her own father, he would show her that if nothing else, she had a friend in him. He would need time to prepare, but for one little girl, he would give the world.


	23. Chapter 22 "A Dream Is a Wish Your Heart Makes"

AN: Lucifer and all recognizable characters belong to Jerry Bruckheimer and FOX television. Set post 'Take Me Back to Hell'. . (Written prior to the start of season 2.)

 

Summary: There is only one thing that can make an immortal vulnerable, only one thing that can hurt an angel aside from another angel - their mate. It was only a rumor, a baseless myth, something Amenadiel had never believed, until it happened to Lucifer.

**Memento Mori**

Chapter 22

**_"A Dream Is A Wish Your Heart Makes"_ **

by WhisperingWolf

Lucifer stood outside on the balcony as he stared at the night sky. It was well past two in the morning, closing in on three. As an angel, he needed less sleep than mortals, two hours a night and he was good, but he had yet to get any. He was still haunted by the feel of Trixie's soul, the dimming of the light inside of her. Turning around as he leaned against the clear glass railing, he looked at the woman sleeping in his bed and admitted that he was haunted by her, as well. 

Perhaps he was simply reading too much into things, but he seriously doubted it. The closer Chloe and her daughter got to having a better life, a happier life without Dan, the more that man seemed to appear out of the shadows just to tear them down. He'd done it with Chloe just ten days ago, but he'd been doing it to Trixie for so much longer. The refusal of allowing her to contact him, the dismissal he had treated her with for most of her life, the angry words he had spoken to her over the telephone from prison. 

He shook his head as he stepped back inside the bedroom and moved toward the bed. Sitting down on the blankets next to Chloe, he bent down over her and kissed her temple. How many times had he watched her cry? Hell, how many times of late had he watched Trixie cry? The girl was so much like her mother, and just as Chloe did, Trixie tried her best to hide her tears and upset. Maybe they both thought that if the world believed them to be happy then they would be happy. Or maybe, just maybe, they had been taught by Dan that no one would care if they weren't.

Lucifer tucked the blankets around Chloe's shoulders as he stood from the bed. He cast his gaze over the room, only to release a soft breath of amusement to find Hunter missing. There was only one place he knew the hellhound would be, and he nodded to himself as he admitted it was where he wanted to be, too. Stepping toward the door, he looked back once more at the bed, his eyes lingering on Chloe's sleeping form for a few moments, before he left the room and pulled the door closed behind him. 

It only took him a few steps to reach Trixie's room, and his eyes softened with a bittersweet smile as he stepped in through her open door. There, in the middle of the bed, lay Hunter and Shadow. The hellhounds were curled around the young girl, forming a protective circle, while she lay tucked beneath the blankets. The devil bear he'd given her was wrapped in her arms, her small nose tucked between the stuffed satin horns. Petting the fur on top of Hunter's head when he was close enough, Lucifer looked down on the sleeping child with a silent sigh. 

He would give anything to take away her pain, but he honestly didn't know what to do. He knew what he was planning to do, the decision he'd made almost four hours ago, but had yet to tell Chloe about. Would it be enough, he wondered. There was a part of him that worried he would end up causing the child more pain, but he couldn't stand idly by anymore. For the past eight years of her life, her father had taught her that she had to win his affection, making her believe that she wasn't good enough, or had done something wrong. No more, he vowed. He would show her that no matter what Dan thought, he believed her to be worth the world.

"'uicfer?" Trixie mumbled tiredly, her voice barely loud enough to be heard, and he looked down on her with a soft smile.

"Hello, darling," Lucifer greeted her, reaching down into the protective circle around her to brush the backs of his fingers over her cheek. "How do you feel?" he asked when she blinked up at him, instead of returning to sleep.

"Hungry," she mumbled softly, and his smile widened.

"Well, it's about time," he cheered softly, and reached for her. 

He helped her escape the blankets, and lifted her up out of the circle Shadow and Hunter had formed around her. She mumbled softly, her words unintelligible, as he held her to his shoulder, and rolled his eyes when her devil bear thumped against his back. He kissed her cheek as he carried her from the room, the hellhounds following behind him as he walked with her down the hall. She whined softly as he rubbed her back, the child growing heavier against him as she slept lightly in his arms. Kissing her cheek as he stepped into the kitchen, he looked around at the spotless counters, and narrowed his eyes in thought.

"Beatrice," Lucifer called to her gently, and held her as she tipped back to look at him drowsily. "What sounds good to eat?" he asked, and watched her eyes close as she smiled tiredly.

"Lasagna," she told him, and he chuckled.

"Lasagna," he repeated with a smile. "Alright, I've got my work cut out for me then. You, miss," he told her, and tapped the end of her nose with his finger, "I wouldn't even trust you with a box of noodles at this point. Do you want to stay here in the kitchen with me, or wait somewhere else for your food?"

She blinked heavily as she seemed to consider his question, and leaned forward as she returned to rest against his shoulder. He released a soft huff of laughter as he held her and nodded. It would appear she was content to stay exactly where she was, and though he could gather the ingredients for their food while he held her, he wouldn't be able to cook with her in his arms. 

Trixie called out to Shadow softly, her voice muffled from where her head rested on Lucifer's shoulder. He frowned in amused curiosity when the girl in his arms told her hellhound to gather a basket, and watched as Shadow grasped the long handle of a wicker basket between her powerful jaws. Though mostly for decoration, he had used the basket a few times before to hold muffins and biscuits. He loved to cook, finding the act of preparing food to be enjoyable, if not somewhat calming, but until Trixie had become a part of his life he had never realized how much he also enjoyed baking. There was something about working with the child in the kitchen that he found energizing and fun.

He carried Trixie in one arm, her face tucked into the side of his throat and her arm draped over his shoulder, as he stepped into the pantry. Amusement twisted his lips as he looked down to find Shadow standing by his side, the hellhound waiting for him to fill the basket she carried. Gathering the oils and vinegars he would need to make the sauce, he set the bottles in the basket, and grinned when he felt her devil bear thump against his back when he straightened. It didn't matter what mood she was in, how tired she was, or if she was distracted by something she was reading, or watching, once she got home, that devil bear was never out of her reach.

Stepping into the walk-in fridge, his eyes glowed red as he pulled on the fires of Hell to heat his body and keep the child in his arms warm. She curled against him closer, seeking his warmth in the chilled air of the fridge, as he gathered the meats, cheeses, vegetables, and fresh herbs he would need. Kissing her temple, he soothed her when she shivered, and wrapped both arms around her as he carried her from the fridge. He had boxes of noodles, and even packs of fresh made pasta, but none of them were lasagna noodles. 

"I'll just have to make my own," he said to himself as he took the basket from Shadow, and lifted it up to set it on the counter. "Darling," he spoke to the dozing child as he rubbed her back to gain her attention. "I'm going to leave you with Shadow and Hunter while I prepare the food," he told her, and smiled when she nodded and leaned forward to kiss his cheek. "Alright you," he spoke with a soft chuckle.

Turning her carefully, he lowered the drowsy girl to Shadow's back and watched her mouth open in a wide yawn as she leant forward to lie down across the hound's back. Shaking his head as he smiled, Lucifer stepped back into the pantry , gathering the dry ingredients he would need for making noodles, before stepping into the fridge to retrieve the butter and eggs. He returned from the fridge, and stopped a few feet outside the large metal door as he looked at the floor near the small table he kept in the kitchen. 

Shadow and Hunter were curled up on the floor, the hellhounds lying flush against each other, as Trixie lay sleeping on Shadow's back. Shadow's head was resting across Hunter's front paws, his head resting over the back of her neck, and their tails laying on top of each other. Trixie's arm was draped over Shadow's side, her other arm tucked in the shallow valley between the hellhounds with her devil bear sitting up against Hunter's back. Lucifer shook his head as he set down the ingredients he'd gathered to make the pasta, and stepped toward the hellhounds.

"And to think," he said to them. "You two used to chase down the most wicked souls to ever try to escape Hell."

He chuckled softly when the hounds thumped their tails gently against the floor, clearly happy with their current assignment, and he nodded. He honestly couldn't say that he was upset about the arrangement, either. The hellhounds had been brought to serve as guardians for both Chloe and her daughter, but in such a very short time, they had come to be so much more to his mortal family. It wouldn't matter what happened once the danger of this case passed, he knew he would never be able to send these hounds back to Hell when it was all said and done. Chloe and Trixie had welcomed them into their odd little family, adopting them as quickly as both mother and child had adopted him.

"You are both completely spoiled, you realize," he said to the hounds as he turned back to the counter. "All either of them have to do is pat their leg, or just smile at you, and you both go running."

He looked back to find both hounds watching him, their tails moving in a slow shallow wag, as if to say _'and you don't?'_. He sighed as he shook his head and returned to the task at hand. The noodles would need to be made first so that they could sit and dry while he prepared the sauce and meat. All in all, it would probably take him a good three hours, if not longer, to prepare their meal, but he didn't mind. As long as Trixie ate it, he would make her whatever she wanted. 

"Hey." Lucifer looked back toward the doors of the kitchen to see Chloe walking toward him. "I woke up and you weren't there," she told him, and he watched her frown when she looked at the counter in front of him. "You're cooking? This late?"

"I checked in on Beatrice," he told her, and nodded behind him to where the hellhounds were laying with her. "She said she was hungry. She desires lasagna, of all things," he told her with a grin. 

"And you're cooking it all for her?" Chloe asked with wonder, as she stepped up to his side, and shook her head. "You amaze me," she whispered to him as she framed his face with her hands, and pulled him down for a chaste kiss. 

"It's just lasagna," he told her, confused by how affected she seemed to be by his cooking. 

"It's so much more than that," she whispered to him, her eyes glistening with the sheen of tears, and kissed him again. "I'll help, if you like," she offered, and he nodded as she kissed him again.

"Dice the onion?" he requested, and watched her smile as she nodded.

Her reaction to finding him preparing to cook still confused him. He didn't understand why it seemed to mean so much to her. It was just food, after all, but for some reason it seemed to mean something very important to her. Mixing the dry ingredients for the pasta together in a bowl, he made a dip in the center, and dropped an egg into the hollow. He could feel her eyes on him as he folded the flour mixture with the egg, and added melted butter until the dough took form. 

Sprinkling flour on the counter in front of him, Lucifer turned out the pasta dough, and rolled it flat until he had a thin sheet of dough. He smiled as he looked up at Chloe, watching her slice and dice the sweet onion, as he cut the dough into thick strips with a knife. Setting the freshly made lasagna noodles aside on a piece of wax paper, he left them to dry, and cleaned up the counter in front of him. He cut the fresh herbs next, adding the tarragon, rosemary, thyme, oregano, and basil to a small bowl in preparation to make the sauce.

"Lasagna sauce?" Chloe asked, and he looked up with a curious frown. "I don't see a jar of it," she told him, and he grinned.

"We're going to make it," he told her with a shrug, and nodded down at the tomatoes, garlic, and bell pepper on the counter between them. 

"You're making the sauce - all of it," she said with disbelieving awe, "from scratch?"

"That was the plan," he told her with a frown of confusion. "What's wrong?" he asked her when she shook her head, a smile curling her trembling lips. "Chloe?" he called to her as she set her knife down, and moved quickly to his side. "It's just lasagna," he said again with confusion, as she kissed him. "All of this for food?" he asked, baffled by her reaction. 

"All of this for you," she told him, laughing through her tears as she kissed him. 

"We need to finish cutting the vegetables," he told her, speaking between kisses against her lips. "We can always play later," he offered her, still confused by her reaction. 

Chloe laughed softly as she stared up at him. "You are a wonderful and sweet man, Lucifer Morningstar," she told him, and he stared at her in confusion as she moved back to resume dicing the onion. 

"It's just food," he told her softly, and watched her smile brightly as she shook her head. "Is this one of those female things that I'm just not going to understand?" he asked her, and listened to her laugh.

"Probably," Chloe told him with a nod.

He shrugged as his eyes widened momentarily in confusion, and returned to the items in front of him. Peeling two cloves of elephant garlic, he chopped and diced the spice, before transferring the fragrant sticky mass to a small bowl. The bell pepper was cored, cleaned and diced next, before he turned to the tomatoes. He worked carefully as he skinned the red fruit, using both Roma, and beefsteak varieties. Adding the tomatoes to a pot, he covered them with just enough water to allow them to simmer and steam as they cooked down, and set the pot on the stove.

It didn't take him long to set the stove to a medium-low heat, the temperature such that the tomatoes would cook low and simmer slowly. It would bring out the sweetness of the Roma tomatoes while allowing the red fruit to soften enough to be blended later. They would need to cook for at least an hour before he blended the tomatoes into a sauce. Turning back to the counter, he found Chloe to be cleaning the surface, the bowls of diced onions, pepper, garlic, and herbs set aside for easy reach. 

He watched her dry the stainless steel countertop with a hand towel, before she set the towel aside and stepped toward him. He accepted her weight against his side when she slipped under his arm, and held her to him as she brought him down for another kiss. 

"I've cooked plenty of times before," he told her with confusion as he broke the kiss to meet her gaze. "Why is it different this time?" he asked, and she sighed as she stared at him with affection.

"I wish I could explain it to you," she told him, and turned her head to look back at her sleeping child. "You did all of this," she told him as she looked back to meet his gaze, "because Trixie told you she was hungry."

"She asked for lasagna," he told her, still not understanding why it meant so much to her. 

"I know," she told him with a watery smile, and brought him down for anther kiss.

He may never understand why the meal meant so much to Chloe, but perhaps, he thought, it was enough to know that it did. She broke the kiss as she stared up at him with wonder and amazement. He kissed her brow as he tucked her hair behind her ear, and smiled down at her. She was nothing like other women, never had been. It was the mystery about her that confused him as much as it thrilled him. One would think he had given her a diamond ring, or something more from her reactions, but all he had done was cook a meal for her daughter. 

He followed her gaze when she turned her attention to the area behind them, and released a breath of amusement to see that Trixie had slipped down to lie against Shadow's side. Hunter had moved in front of them, the hellhounds creating a circle around the child. Trixie lay tucked between them, the young girl laying on top of their thick tails, as their heads lay on each other's shoulders to keep her warm. The devil bear was tucked under her chin, her arms wrapped around the stuffed toy as she lay sleeping.

"Did she adopt them?" Chloe asked Lucifer as she looked up to meet his gaze. "Or did they adopt her?"

He chuckled as he looked at the hellhounds surrounding the child. "I think it's a bit of both," he told Chloe with a grin. "And I don't think a single one of them is displeased with the arrangement."

"Thank you," Chloe said, and Lucifer looked down to meet her gaze.

"For what?" he asked, and watched her bite her lip as she smiled.

Chloe shook her head, denying him an answer, as she smiled. She lifted her hands, framing his face as she smoothed her thumbs over the rise of his cheeks, and pulled him down for a kiss. He groaned as he pulled her closer, his hands sliding down to cup her bottom, and felt a shiver of desire race down his spine at the reminder that she was still only dressed in his button down white shirt and her black satin panties that she'd gone to bed in. He growled with need as he lifted her up, and sat her on the counter top behind her.

He swallowed her whimper, a shock of uncontrolled heat spiraling through him when she wrapped her bare legs around his waist to pull him closer. She cried out, trembling with need, as he moved closer, pressing the evidence of his arousal against her, their skin separated only by the dark jeans he wore and the slip of satin that covered her. He rocked against her as he ravished her mouth, delighting in the whimpers and gasps that sounded from her. 

Lucifer growled against her mouth as he broke the kiss, his lips leaving a trail of fire as he kissed his way down her throat to the curve where her neck met her shoulder. He gripped her thigh, hissing in pleasure at the feel of her smooth bare skin, and pulled her closer as she called his name. He chuckled when her hands moved to the shirt he wore, her fingers working the first three buttons loose before she slid her hands inside. He hissed at the feel of her palms against his bare skin, rocking his hips against hers as she bent back, her mouth falling open in a silent cry, her cheeks colored a delicate rose with her arousal.

"Lucifer," Trixie's small voice sounded behind them, and they both stilled.

The reminder that she was in the room with them, behind them, was as much a shock to their senses as ice cold water would have been. Chloe panted as she dropped her legs from around his waist, smoothing out the tangles Lucifer had made in her hair as he buttoned up his shirt. His brows rose high on his forehead as Chloe pressed against him to look over his shoulder. She dropped her forehead against his chest a few seconds later as she began to laugh.

"What's so funny?" he asked her breathlessly.

"She's still asleep," Chloe told him with humor, and shook her head. "I swear, kids are the best prophylactic ever," she mused as her laughter increased. "I am going to go get dressed," she told him when he stepped back, and hopped off the counter to stand in front of him. 

"Don't get dressed on my account," he purred as he leaned in for another kiss, only to be stopped when she put her hand over his face.

"Of course, I'm getting dressed on your account," she told him with a laugh. "If we had taken that any further, and she had woken up," she said, her eyes wide. "I do not want my daughter seeing us do that," she told him.

"It's a perfectly natural act," he told her as he watched her straighten the shirt she wore.

"She's eight!" Chloe rebutted, and he responded with an arch of his brow. "You are so bad," she told him with a laugh, shaking her head when he pouted. "Be good," she told him, pointing a finger at him as he had seen her do with Trixie before.

"No promises," he teased in return, running his tongue over the top of his teeth as he watched her leave. "You two are no help," he groused as he looked back at the hellhounds.

A low chuckle from behind him drew his attention, and Lucifer turned to see Mazikeen standing inside the kitchen. He watched her step forward, her eyes turning down to stare at the child sleeping in the circle of hellhounds, and shook her head. She lifted her gaze, meeting his gaze, and ran her eyes over him as she laughed softly.

"You two keep going on like this and at least one of you is going to spontaneously combust," Mazikeen teased him. 

"Of that, I am unquestionably certain," he told her with a sigh. "How goes the hunt?"

"Still nothing," she told him, and scanned the countertop before looking to the stove. "You're making lasagna?" she asked him. "You hate making lasagna."

"No, I don't," he denied her. "I just detest that I'm the only one who eats it. Beatrice asked for it," he told her with a dismissive shrug.

"It's about time she got hungry," Mazikeen said with approval. "I'm on my way out," she told him, and turned away. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do," she called back to him as she left the kitchen.

Lucifer shook his head as he stared after her. Whatever she was up to, he didn't want to know. Too often lately he had found her and Amenadiel in rather interesting positions, and while he may love to get a few verbal knocks in against his brother, he did not need the details of their time together. Turning back to look at the stove, he caught movement out of the corner of his eye, and looked down to find Trixie awake and watching him.

"You didn't have to make lasagna," she told him softly, her tone guilty, and he frowned as he tried to understand why she seemed upset. "You could have just told me to wait till breakfast like Daddy used to," she told him, and he breathed in as he nodded.

"I've got to drain the tomatoes," he told her, glancing back at the stove before returning his attention to her. "Once I do that, would you like to help make the sauce?"

"Yeah?" she asked with a slow smile, her eyes wide with cautious excitement.

"Yeah," he agreed with a wink. He stepped closer to where she sat inside the circle of hellhounds, and crouched down as he reached out to tip her chin up. "I won't turn you away, moppet," he told her sincerely as he stared into her eyes. "Go wash your hands," he instructed her, and watched as the hellhounds stood to allow her freedom.

It didn't take him long to drain the simmering tomatoes, and puree the cooked fruit in the blender. He was pouring the steaming sauce back into the pan on the stove when Trixie came back into the kitchen, and he met her gaze with a smile. Nodding to the counter behind him, he asked her to bring the bowls of onion and garlic to be added to the sauce. Telling her to hold tight to the bowls, he gripped her around the waist and lifted her up to sit her on his hip. He chuckled when she leaned forward with wide eyes to stare at the tomato sauce simmering slowly in the pot.

"Mommy made spaghetti sauce like this once," she told Lucifer, smiling as she bit her lip.

"Oh?" he asked curiously, and tapped his finger on the bowl of diced onions.

"Mmhmm," Trixie confirmed as she added the onions to the sauce, and he stirred them in. "I was helping mommy cut up the mushrooms, and she was singing," she told him, and added the garlic to the pot, her nose crinkling at the pungent smell. "I asked daddy if he wanted to help, and he just said that I needed to clean up my mess," she told him.

Lucifer closed his eyes to hide the flash of crimson, and fought back his temper. The memory Trixie shared explained Chloe's reaction to finding him preparing the meal. It also explained why the girl he held would feel guilty for him making the meal she had asked for. Dan may never have hit either of them, at least not from what Chloe had told him, but his words and dismissal had been much more damaging. Turning his head, Lucifer kissed Trixie's temple, and tapped the wooden spoon on the side of the pot before setting it aside on the spoon rest in the middle of the stove.

"We don't have any mushrooms chopped," he told her thoughtfully as he turned to look at the counter. "I think there are some in the fridge. Shall we check?" he asked her, and met her gaze when she stared at him quietly. 

"Can we?" she asked him softly. 

"Of course," he told her, and tapped the end of her nose with his finger.

**~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~**

Chloe stepped back into the kitchen almost twenty minutes after she had left, and stood back against the end of the long island counter as she took in the scene in front of her. Lucifer was stirring the sauce on the stove while he sang to Trixie. Her daughter was smiling and singing along as she sat on the counter top behind him, her legs crossed Indian style, and carefully sliced the white button mushrooms with a small knife. It almost looked plastic, she thought, but knew better. There was no way Lucifer would have a plastic anything in his kitchen, which meant the utensil was ceramic. 

She knew the knife would be sharp enough to cut deeply into anyone's skin handled improperly, but she also knew that Lucifer wasn't a fool. If he trusted her daughter with the knife, then she should as well. Her smile widened, a soft laugh coming from her when she realized what song they were singing, and she shook her head. Only Trixie could get Lucifer to sing a Disney song, and from Tangled, no less. She frowned curiously when he paused in his singing, and watched as he stepped away from the stove, only to look back to Trixie.

"Darling, I find myself sadly lacking in mushrooms," he told Trixie, and Chloe laughed softly as she watched her daughter respond with a huff as she put her fisted hands on her hips.

"And you want _my_ mushrooms?" she asked him, playfully indignant. 

"I do indeed, my lady," he replied with a nod, and Chloe grinned wide eyed as her daughter shook her head and stuck her nose in the air.

"Why I do declare!" Trixie said mightily with a rather bad southern accent.

Chloe laughed, tears pricking at her eyes with her mirth, and met Lucifer's gaze. He winked at her before returning his attention to her daughter, and she watched as he motioned to the pot with a wave of his arm. Chloe watched with amusement as her daughter picked up a handful of mushrooms. One by one, Trixie tossed the mushroom slices into the pot. Her arc was perfect, her aim true, and every projectile hit its mark on target. 

She couldn't believe that Lucifer had not only let Trixie throw food in the kitchen, knowing how neat of a person he was, but he was actually encouraging it. She knew that there had to have been more than a few mishaps, pieces of food that landed on the floor, or too far back on the stove, but Lucifer didn't seem to mind one bit. It was then, as she tipped her head, that she noticed the two black tails sweeping back and forth across the floor, and chuckled. Whatever may have landed on the floor, or been considered a loss, had surely been quickly and efficiently cleaned up by the two hellhounds sitting on the floor between the stove and the counter in front of Trixie. 

"Shall we feed our loyal subjects?" Lucifer asked Trixie regally, and Chloe watched her daughter nod.

"I believe we shall," Trixie replied haughtily in the same bad southern accent she'd used before. "Shadow, Hunter," she called to the hellhounds, and Chloe moved to the side to get a better angle to see them. "Attention, please!" she called, and clapped her hands.

Chloe frowned with amused curiosity as she watched the hellhounds stand on all fours and face her daughter. They stood still, almost on point, and she watched as her daughter reached into a bowl beside her. Trixie brought out two flat cuts of meat, and Chloe realized absently that they were uncooked pieces of thinly cut flank steak. She watched her daughter lean forward slowly to lay the thin slices of raw beef over the ends of the hounds' noses. Chloe had to give the beasts credit, neither one moved at all.

"Enjoy!" Trixie called out, and clapped her hands together once.

Chloe chuckled as she watched the hellhounds jerk their heads up to toss the meat in the air and catch it with a snap of their powerful jaws. For all their gentleness and care, she knew how powerful and deadly the hellhounds were, yet not once had they ever been anything but kind and protective of her and her daughter. She shook her head as she watched them return to sit on their haunches, their tails sweeping across the floor as their jaws fell open in wide happy smiles. 

Her attention moved to Lucifer as she watched him stir the pot before setting the spoon aside. He stepped around the counter as Trixie returned to her task of cutting more mushrooms, and she smiled as he came to stand next to her. They didn't say anything as they stood side by side, and watched the girl on the counter. 

"She's having so much fun," Chloe observed as she watched her daughter sit up straight to toss more slices of mushrooms into the simmering pot.

"We make a good team," he returned, and met Chloe's smile with one of his own. "Come join us," he bid of her, and tipped his head as he gave her a teasing smile tinged with playful annoyance. "I could use help shredding the mozzarella. I was going to have Beatrice do it, but she keeps eating it," he said, and Chloe nodded as she laughed.

"She's a mouse," Chloe agreed with a laugh. "When she was three, she used to steal the bag of shredded cheese from the fridge and run around the house eating it. You could always tell where she'd been. All you had to do was follow the trail of cheese on the floor. Better than breadcrumbs," she told him as she laughed, and smiled when he chuckled. 

The warm sound of his laughter, the way it rolled from him low and deep and inviting, was calling to her like a moth to a flame. She turned to him, moving to stand in front of him, and lifted her hand to his cheek. So many other women had come in and out of his bed, there only for a few hours at a time, but she and her daughter he had welcomed into his life - his home. Of all the things he had done, the expensive suits that he wore, how could she make him understand that she found him the most irresistible when she discovered these private moments between him and her daughter? 

It was the way he made her smile and laugh, how he made Trixie feel as though she were the most important person in the world to him. The times she watched him tuck her daughter in for bed, sitting beside her as he sang her to sleep after a nightmare, or told her a story to take her mind off of whatever had been bothering her. The moments she stayed hidden in the shadows as she watched him teaching Trixie to play the piano, or walked around with her in his arms when the girl was drowsy and adorably boneless. 

She doubted she had the words to explain to him why finding him sleeping on the couch with Trixie asleep on his chest was the most devastatingly sexy thing she had ever seen from him. The quiet moments when she watched them together was a drug to her, and she couldn't get enough of it. It made her heart beat faster, her temperature rise, even as bittersweet tears pricked at her eyes. Leaning up on her toes, Chloe pulled Lucifer down for a kiss, and whimpered softly as he groaned against her mouth. She poured everything she felt into her kiss, and blinked slowly as he pulled back to stare at her in awe. 

"Bloody hell," he whispered breathlessly as he leaned close to kiss her lips. "We need to find some time alone," he told her, and Chloe giggled as she smiled brightly. "I should call Maze."

"Don't you dare," Chloe told him, slapping his arm playfully. "It's date night."

"It's what?" he asked her, looking at her as though she'd lost her mind. 

"Date night," she repeated. "I know she and Amenadiel have been growing closer, but they always seemed hesitant. So, I told her they should go out on a date. Do something that they both like, and spend some quality time together," she told him, and met his dumbfounded gaze with a laugh. "Only you would find the concept of a date completely foreign," she said with a laugh.

"No," he parried. "A date, I understand. But a date between those two?" he said incredulously.

"They're sweet together," she told him, and Lucifer choked back a laugh.

"A fallen angel and a demon?" he asked her as he chuckled. "Have you lost your mind?" 

"Don't be jealous," she teased him, and turned to walk away. 

"Oh no," Lucifer said to himself as Chloe walked over to join her daughter. "It's perfectly fine that my brother and Maze are out having sex somewhere, and I'm stuck here sneaking a few kisses like a randy schoolboy," he groused, and rolled his eyes before moving to join Chloe and Trixie.

**~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~**

Amenadiel frowned as he stared at the house they were standing in front of. He turned his attention on Mazikeen, and met her gaze when she turned to stare at him. She seemed pleased, excited even, and he watched as her lips parted in a wide smile, her tongue coming out to trace over her top lip as she drew in a slow breath. She had told him they were going out on a date night, something that Chloe had suggested. It was supposed to be a time for them to be alone together, to do something they both enjoyed, but she had taken him to the suburbs. If this was some kind of joke, he didn't get it. 

"What are we doing here, Maze?" Amenadiel asked her, his brow arched in question.

"Time for a lesson," she purred, moving in front of him as she ran her hands up and down his chest. "You can make yourself unseen, yes?" she asked slowly, her tone seductive.

"Yes," he answered slowly, and nodded once. "Why?"

"Consider this . . . foreplay," she told him with a wicked chuckle. "Hide yourself from mortals, and I'll teach you how to play."

"Why?" he asked her, and looked up at the house. "Where are we, Maze? Who's house is this?" 

"Dan's," she told him, anger flashing in her eyes. "You weren't there," she told him. "Trixie's mood has fallen, she's been sadder, and then yesterday, the school called looking for her. She was perfectly safe with Shadow," she told him, heading off the concern in his eyes. "Shadow hid her from view of the mortals, but Lucifer said she'd been crying. Every single time that child has been hurt, _every time_ , it's been because of _him_. We still can't kill him, or damage him, but we can definitely play with him."

Had it been anyone else, Amenadiel may have declined, but this was Trixie they were talking about. He liked the girl. She was sweet, and kind, and adorably innocent. The few times she had caught him thinking about something unpleasant, or worrying over his new status stuck between Heaven and Hell, she had sat next to him and offered him her devil bear. It still amused him to no end that Lucifer had gotten the toy for her, and that her attachment to the stuffed creature was so profound. All the times he had held her as he read to her, or comforted her when she was scared played through his mind. But it was the unshakable memory of holding her while she cried that made the decision effortless for him.

"You know," Mazikeen mused, her tone humorous. "The school called me to see if I had picked up my _niece_ ," she told him with a chuckle. "I guess they believe me to be Trixie's aunt, which in turn," she said as she turned to stare at him. "Would make _you_ her uncle."

"Lead the way," Amenadiel told her as he hid himself from mortal view.

**~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~**

She closed her eyes as she took the box from the woman in the hall, and nodded her thanks before retreating inside her dorm room. Most of the students here at the International High School in LA came from other countries, but most were also the sons and daughters of diplomats. While there were dorms to hold each student in attendance, only half the rooms were ever actually occupied. The nice side of that was it meant she had a private room. Carrying the box over to her bed, she set it down and studied the label.

Her name, at least the name she had gone by for the past ten years of her life had been printed perfectly on the package. There was no return address, and she took in a deep breath as she sighed. She knew exactly what would be inside the box. At least one package of hair dye, and a bottle of drugs that had been specially designed to do one - and only one - thing: change a person's eye color. She knew that it was a designer drug, there was no way it couldn't be. 

Sophia knew that in order for the people who had taken her to be able to consistently get away with what they had done, there couldn't be any paper trail. The hair dye was made in house. She knew that because there was never any brand name, and the bottle that it came in had a special feature. Once the hair dye had been mixed and used, the tiny ball that was included would burst, and the plastic would melt away leaving no evidence behind. The pills were the same way. There was no label on the bottle, except dosage information, and nothing to tell of who made it, or where it came from.

She closed her eyes as she sat down beside the box and folded over, resting her elbows on her knees as she put her head in her hands. She had stopped taking the pills two months before she'd left Germany. The Brauers, the couple she had been living with, had told her they would visit her when they could, but their work kept them in Berlin. They hadn't noticed her eye color slowly lightening from the brown the pills turned it to, back to her natural blue-grey. And today, just after the afternoon orientation, she had slipped off the school grounds to go to a salon she had heard about.

One of the other girls had been talking with her mother, and Sophia had heard them mention the salon by name, as well as the advantage one could get if they simply said that Lucifer Morningstar had sent them by. She didn't know who the man was, and she didn't care, but the woman there had been more than happy to help her. 

Taking in a deep breath, Sophia stood from the bed and stepped over to the mirror on the wall. Tears pricked at her eyes as she stared at her reflection with nostalgia and disbelief. For the first time in a very long time, she recognized the person staring back at her. Honey blonde hair framed her face, falling in soft rolling waves down over her shoulders, the almond tone of her skin and high cheek bones enhanced by her stormy blue eyes. That girl in the mirror, she thought, is Sophia Cardman. No longer was she Boudicca Bauer. 

Moving back to her bed, she emptied out the bag she carried for school and tucked the box inside. She had looked up her mother when she had first landed in L.A., but had found nothing for her. Then, a few nights later, Gabriel had appeared in her dreams. He had told her to search for L.A.P.D. Lieutenant Olivia Monroe. She had woken moments after he had given her the name, and found her mother's address in seconds, care of an internet search.

Her mother was going by her maiden name, and it could only mean one thing, her parents had divorced. Two months she had been in L.A., and the more she had tried to convince herself to go see her mother, the more frightened she had been. What if her mother had forgotten her? What if her mother had created a new life, with a new family, and didn't want to see her? 

"I _have_ to see her," Sophia whispered to herself. "Even if she doesn't remember me. Even if she doesn't want me. I can't not see her. I've been waiting ten years to see my mom again."

She told herself to be brave as she slipped her arms through the straps of the backpack and hitched it up over her shoulders. Tightening the straps to make sure the bag didn't fall off, she moved to the window of her room. If she went out the door, someone would see her. And even if there was no one in the halls, the security cameras would track her movement. After two months of living in the dorms, she knew where every camera was, and how large every blind spot was. Flirting with the nighttime security guard, and pretending she needed help practicing her English had its advantages, she only hoped the man didn't hold it against her when the truth came out.

**~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~**

Mazikeen stepped closer to the bed, watching the man lying beneath the blankets as he slept. Reaching out, she gripped the ends of the blankets and pulled them down slowly, watching him as she waited for Dan to wake up. At first, he just moved his head, his eyes crinkling in his sleep as he came closer to consciousness. When the blankets were down to his waist, he reached out for them without opening his eyes. And when they moved lower, his eyes snapped open and he sat up in bed. 

"Who's there?" Dan demanded as he looked around the room, trying desperately to see anything in the darkness.

A slow darkly satisfied smile drew across Mazikeen's face as she watched Amenadiel step closer to the bed. Dan couldn't see either one of them, and the fun of it all was just beginning. She watched Dan's eyes widen, his face paling, as Amenadiel lifted a framed photo from the bedside table. To Dan, she knew it looked as though the photo was moving on its own. She caught sight of the picture when Amenadiel turned the picture around, and growled before she could stop herself. 

She had half expected it to be a picture of the family he'd lost, or maybe just of Chloe, but instead, it was a framed photo of Dan, Paolucci, and Malcolm standing in front of The Paddock. Their arms were slung over each others' shoulders, and each man held up their detective's shield. It angered her that he hadn't even thought enough of Chloe, or Trixie to have a photo of them in his bedroom, let alone the rest of the house, and she wondered what it must have been like for Trixie. She knew the girl had spent days at a time with her father before he had been sent to jail, so what must Trixie have thought when she had found there to be no pictures of herself, or her mother in her father's home?

Reaching up, as Amenadiel set the photo back down, Mazikeen gripped Dan's ankles in a fierce hold. He couldn't move at all, she was too strong for him, the mortal unable to shake her grip even a little. She watched as he struggled, panic twisting his features, and looked over to Amenadiel. She lifted her brows as she looked at him, and he shrugged before he placed his hand in the center of Dan's chest and pushed him back down to the bed. Dan couldn't move at all, and kept shouting out for help, only to still with a whimper when Mazikeen spread his legs wide, his ankles still seized in her iron grip.

She chuckled low as Amenadiel lifted his other hand to Dan's head and gripped his jaw tight. Snapping his head to the side, he leaned down until his lips were brushing the shell of the mortal's ear. The sight of Amenadiel learning so quickly how to play upon a human's natural fear of the darkness was thrilling, arousing even, and she smiled wide as she ran her tongue over her teeth in dark delight. 

"Stop making them cry," Amenadiel snarled, his voice too low, and tone too even for Dan to have recognized it. 

She knew the man would never be able to place it, having only met the angel once before. If there was one thing she had learned about Dan, it was that he had no interest in actually searching out the truth. For him, whatever was the most obvious was the easiest answer to go with. It was because of that, she knew that he wouldn't remember the sound of Amenadiel's voice so much as he would remember the way he had stood with his wings spread wide and his power glowing around him. 

Mazikeen giggled when Amenadiel struck Dan, the backhanded blow strong enough to knock him out. He stepped to where she stood at the end of the bed and brushed his fingers over the bruises her grip had left on the man's skin. In seconds the bruises were gone, and he took the blankets from her, covering Dan with them and making it look as though his sleep had never been disturbed. He healed the burgeoning bruise to the man's face just as easily. Leaving no physical evidence behind would make the mortal question whether it had all just been a dream, and the more they could make him question his own mind, the better. 

Moving toward Amenadiel, Mazikeen took his hand and led him out of the house. Gripping his shoulders, she jumped up and wrapped her legs around his waist as she hooked her arms behind his neck. He trembled beneath her as he wrapped his arms around her, and groaned when she nibbled at his neck. 

"Take me somewhere," she whispered against his skin, and dragged her tongue up his throat to place nipping kisses at the curve of his jaw. "I want to play," she told him, and rocked her hips against his.

**~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~**

Lucifer grinned as he looked toward long settee. Chloe lay sleeping, stretched out on the reclined leather. Shadow and Hunter lay on the floor on either side of her, their curled up forms tall enough that even if Chloe did roll toward the edge, it was impossible for her to roll off. He turned his attention down to the girl lying on his chest, the child content to use him as a makeshift bed and pillow. Her legs had fallen over either side of his waist, her head resting just below the dip in his collar bone, as she watched the movie playing.

He knew Trixie wasn't asleep, not yet. Every now and then she would shift, her hand rubbing at her eye, or fisting in his shirt. Looking up at the television, his lips pulled up to the side in a lopsided smile as he took in the familiar scene. The king and queen lifted the first lit lantern between them, releasing it to be carried through the air, as the rest of their kingdom followed suit. Tipping his head up from the arm he had folded behind him as a pillow, he kissed Trixie's hair. 

"It's my favorite part of the movie," Trixie told him softy, and he rubbed her back. "She doesn't know it yet, but all those lights are for her. Her family wanted her to come back so badly."

"They did," he agreed with her, knowing she had more to say. 

"When I think about Daddy, I feel like Rapunzel did when she learned the truth about Mother Gothel," she told him softly, her breath hitched. "It feels like he was lying to me."

Lucifer sighed softly as he wrapped both arms around Trixie, holding her close as her tears dampened his shirt. He hugged her close as he petted her hair, and kissed her head as he remained silent. There wasn't anything he could say, or do that would take away her pain. The truth was that Dan had been lying, maybe not outright to her face, but it had been a lie all the same. He couldn't promise her that the pain of it would ever go away, because the pain he felt at his own father's rejection hadn't eased any, and it had been millennia since he had been thrown away. 

"Will you stay with us, Lucifer?" Trixie asked him softly, her words soft and slurred as she neared sleep. "I don't want you to ever go away."

"I won't leave you, moppet," he promised her sincerely. "You're important to me. You both are."

"I love you, 'ucifer," she mumbled as she drifted off to sleep, her words ending on a sigh.

"Love you, too, moppet," he returned, as he petted her hair, and smiled sadly as he tipped his head to look down at her. "My own little Rapunzel."

**~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~**

Her hands shook as she stepped out of the shadows and up to the house sitting at the end of the drive. So many times she had almost turned back, but now that she was here, she felt almost calm. It was as though she was too overwhelmed to feel anything. Closing her eyes as she lifted her hand, she paused, her fist inches from the door. She stood silent and still for several heartbeats before she found the courage to knock on the door. 

She dropped her head when there was no movement, and turned away from the door. Tears pricked at her eyes as she felt her heart break, a shaking breath drawn in. A sob broke from her as she felt as though she had come so far to find so little. She wouldn't have the courage to do this a second time, and felt broken by the possibility that it had all been for naught. The porch light flicked on above her head, drawing a gasp from her as the locks snapped open behind her and the door was pulled open. 

Her hands fisted in front of her as she took in a shaking breath and turned around slowly. She lifted her eyes slowly from where they had been fixed on the ground, and met her mother's gaze. The woman's eyes widened as her face paled. 

"S-Sophia?"


	24. Chapter 23 "When an Angel Breaks Part I"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for hanging in there with me, everyone. I know it's been a while since I last posted, and the closer it gets to the holiday season, the longer it may be between chapters. Work gets crazy, and I get less time to write. 
> 
> The next few chapters, as you will see, will be exploring Gabriel's story. And I wanted to share a few links with you about the boys you will meet here. For the record, I'm not liking who they chose to play Uriel in the show. Nothing against the actor, but he looks more like the missing family member from the Addams' Family than he does an angel. That aside, my Uriel will have a different personality than the one they will be introducing in the upcoming episode of Lucifer. Check out the links for picture(s) of Gabe and Uriel
> 
> Gabriel: http://wolfe837422.tumblr.com/post/152004305068/gabriel-from-memento-mori-he-is-a-beautiful
> 
> Uriel: http://wolfe837422.tumblr.com/post/152004042468/for-those-of-you-reading-memento-mori-on-ao3-this

AN: Lucifer and all recognizable characters belong to Jerry Bruckheimer and FOX television. Set post 'Take Me Back to Hell'. . (Written prior to the start of season 2.)

 

Summary: There is only one thing that can make an immortal vulnerable, only one thing that can hurt an angel aside from another angel - their mate. It was only a rumor, a baseless myth, something Amenadiel had never believed, until it happened to Lucifer.

Memento Mori

Chapter 23

**_"When An Angel Breaks Part I"_ **

by WhisperingWolf

He landed silently in the thick grass, the smell of it comforting to him. It took effort to fold his wings back, the burning ache of the joints at his back making his flight down to Earth little more than a controlled fall. This was the one place he had found comfort and belonging. For the past hundred years, he had come to visit this place on an almost weekly basis, and while he was certain his father knew of his visits, it was his brother who had expressed a problem with it. He closed his eyes as he thought about simply sitting in the grass, and giving into his desire to sleep. 

That was perhaps his favorite part about being on the earthly plane. Here, he could sleep, but in Heaven he couldn't. It was a contradiction of sorts, he mused, an exhausted smile tipping his lips as he gave a huff of amusement. Angels had physical form, they always had, ever since the beginning of time, but when they were in Heaven - or anywhere other than the earthly plane really - they didn't sleep, or eat. Hunger for food was only felt when on Earth, and though an angel could grow tired, and even exhausted in Heaven, they lacked the ability to sleep. 

"You look tired."

Gabriel chuckled softly as he looked up to meet the gaze the familiar voice belonged to. He offered the woman a smile that didn't quite meet his eyes. To everyone else, she was known as Sister Katherine, but to him she would always be Katie. The delicate mahogany strands of her hair had long since become interspersed with gray, but he could still remember the fearless and openly loving child he had met so many years before.

"And you're being kind," he told her with a touch amusement, and looked up at the large complex that stood in the distance behind her. "How long has it been, Katie?"

"Since you were last here, Gabriel?" she asked as she tucked herself under his arm, and supported his weight against her side. "About a month," she told him, and sighed as she helped him walk back toward the monastery. "You're the only person in my life, Gabriel, who never ages, never looks any different. I've had my suspicions for a long time now, but answer me honestly," she bid of him, and he met her gaze as they stopped walking. "You're not human, are you? You are Gabriel. Archangel. Guardian of Children. Protector of Innocence."

"I am," he answered softly, and nodded. "Why haven't you asked before?"

"It wasn't important," she told him with a shrug.

"And it is now?" he asked her, and watched as she gave a breath of amusement, a half laugh that seemed to be tinged in sadness. "Katie, what's wrong?" 

He met her gaze when she stopped walking, and bid her to sit in the grass with him. He smiled in thanks when she caught his shoulders, his aching body making his attempt to sit in the grass awkward and unbalanced. Bending his legs, he wrapped his arms loosely around his knees, using the position to balance himself. 

"I haven't been feeling quite myself these past few months," she told him, her voice soft, and a bit subdued. "At first, I thought it was simply a cold, the weather hasn't exactly been friendly lately. But then the longer the feeling lasted, the less I could find a believable excuse for it. I went in to see my doctor. She ran one test after another, until I was certain there could be no more for her to run." She fell silent, and Gabriel reached out, covering her hand with his in an attempt to offer her comfort. "I'm dying, Gabriel. End stage lung cancer. Never smoked a day in my life, but it's there all the same. I went to all the specialists to see if there was any chance of fighting it, but the cancer's spread to a point where it can't be stopped by anything. They gave me six months at most."

"Katie . . . " Gabriel tipped his head as he looked at her with concern and sadness. 

"I've had a full life," she told him, and he smiled when she touched his cheek. "I've lived how I've wanted, and I've no regrets, but I worry, Gabriel. Who will be here to look after you when I'm gone? Of all my sisters here, I'm the only one who knows about you. It was said that angels hold no emotions, but I know you feel just the same as I. You rejoice and you morn, you worry and you celebrate."

"It's a fallacy," he told her with a heavy sigh. "Angels hold all the same emotions as humans. Some of my siblings find it safer not to feel, but I . . . Well, I wouldn't be a very good protector of children if I couldn't understand how they felt." He looked down at the grass between them, his hand pressed against the emerald blades. "Are you in pain?" he asked as he looked back up to meet her gaze.

"No," she answered him. "Mostly, I just feel tired. Some days it's hard to get out of bed. I have a few headaches here, or there, but that's about it. The doctors believe that I'll simply go to sleep one night and not wake up," she told him, and he watched her piercing blue gaze as she studied him. "You're in pain though," she told him, and frowned. "What happened?"

Gabriel shook his head as he looked down. He lifted his gaze to the building in the distance, his eyes rising higher to look at the clouds, and the clear blue sky. Pursing his lips as he debated whether, or not to tell her, he turned his head to meet her gaze. The way she stared at him reminded him of the way his own mother had looked at him and his siblings, until she had turned into something darker. He had felt more alone lately than he ever had, and closed his eyes as he found himself wishing his brother were still with him.

"Michael's got a bit of a temper," he told her, and winced as he moved his shoulder. "He wasn't too happy that I've been coming here."

"What did he do?" Sister Katherine asked him with concern.

"He tried to keep me home by . . . I . . ." He fell silent as he considered the options available to him, and made a decision he knew could be his undoing. "I'm not supposed to show, or tell anyone, but I need the help," he said, and closed his eyes as he flexed his wings with difficulty. 

He heard her gasp, and knew she had seen his wings. Perhaps she had known that he was an angel before, but to see the evidence of it was far more powerful. There was a time that he had been bound by his father's orders completely, but over the past century, the chains of his father's orders had grown weaker. He wasn't sure if his will was growing stronger, or, if like his brother had so long ago, he was falling.

"Gabriel . . ." He turned his eyes on her when she spoke, the tone of her voice frightened and horrified. "Your wings," she whispered with agony. "They look . . . They don't look right."

"Michael tried to stop me from coming by dislocating them so I couldn't fly," he told her, his voice strained. "I tried to put them back myself, but I couldn't. I had to get away, Katie," he told her, and looked up when she touched his hair.

"Lie down and tell me how to fix this," she instructed him, and Gabriel nodded.

He moved slowly, turning on his hip, and stretched out to lie down on his stomach in the grass. She moved next to him, kneeling in the grass beside him, as she carefully moved his wing. He talked her through what she needed to do, how to move and manipulate his wings to put the joints back in place. He gasped and cried out, a harsh half-sob half-yell sounding from him as she snapped his left wing back into place. Gabriel jerked and cried out when she was able to relocate his right wing, and buried his face in the cradle of his arms as he bore the pain of his joints being put back in place. 

"They're so soft," she whispered in awe as she touched his feathers, stroking his wing gently as she soothed him.

"I don't know what to do anymore, Katie," he whispered, tears falling from his eyes as he kept his face hidden. 

"Tell me?" she asked him, and he turned his head as she gently massaged the muscles of his back, offering him the comfort of a friend.

The story began slowly, his voice pained and aching with the hurt he could no longer hide. His family was not small by any means. He had more brothers and sisters than he knew what to do with most times, but they each had their purpose. Any angel could be prayed to, he told her, and every angel could hear a prayer sent up to God. For those like him, and a few of his siblings, those few angels that the humans had come to write stories about, to pray to directly, it was different. 

"When a human prays to an angel directly, when they call to us," he told her, "we feel it. The stronger the emotion behind the prayer, the stronger we feel it. Most times, it nothing more than a little tug, a nudge . . . But sometimes, when those who pray to me are frightened, or hurt . . . It's like this . . . It feels like they're clawing at me from the inside out, and the only way to make that feeling go away is to go to them. To help them."

"Have you been hearing a lot of prayers like that?" she asked him, and Gabriel nodded.

"Over the past hundred years, I have heard children crying out, begging to be helped, begging to be saved," he told her. "To ignore any prayer is tiring, but to ignore one like that . . . I guess the closest comparison would be to have someone beat you with a baseball bat," he told her, and sighed tiredly. "Everything hurts, and no matter what you do, it never gets better."

"Why would any angel ignore a prayer? Especially one like that?" she asked him, and Gabriel closed his eyes when she worked her gentle fingers through his feathers to massage his wings.

"Because my father commanded it," he told her with a tired sigh. "I obey his command because I don't have a choice not to, but it's getting harder to obey Him. A hundred years of hearing them cry, of feeling them claw at me, and beg for my help . . . "

"I am not one to tell you to rebel," she told him softly. "But you must do what is right for you. That is all any of us can do."

Gabriel laughed tiredly. "Sammie was the only one of us with a will strong enough to rebel against Father. I envy him for that."

"Sammie?" she asked him, and Gabriel nodded as he closed his eyes.

"Samael," he told her, his lips tugging up at the corner when he laughed. "Lucifer. You know he loved music?" he said as his breathing slowed, his voice becoming softer as he neared sleep. "We used to talk through music. Before his fall . . . He was my best friend. I miss him . . . "

"Sleep well, my friend," he heard Katie whisper to him seconds before he fell asleep.

**~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~**

His steps were slow as he moved through the grass, his footprints left in the sprinkling of snow that covered the ground. It had been his choice to spend the past year on earth, slipping into one hospital after another. He had healed children of injuries, and illness, correcting muscular defects that would have made their lives painful and difficult. It was the least he could do, he thought as he stepped slowly closer to the white marble headstone. He still couldn't fight against his father's edict. He had tried to once, only to feel a pain unlike anything he'd ever known explode behind his eyes.

It had been a warning, he knew that much, but why his father still commanded him to ignore the children who were being stolen and killed, the children who were screaming out for his help, was beyond his comprehension. He had come back to see Katie, to talk with her again, only to be directed out here, to the cemetery. Uriel hadn't said a thing to him. His brother knew he was close with this woman, he had watched over her since she was a child.

"Did she suffer?" he asked, having heard the slow steps approaching behind him.

"No," the woman answered him. "Sister Katherine died in her sleep. It was very peaceful. You're Gabriel, yes?" she asked as she came to stand by his side.

"Yes," he answered with a nod.

"She left you this," the nun told him, and handed him an envelope. 

He nodded his thanks as he took the envelope from her. His focus remained on the headstone in front of him, the date of her death staring at him. September fourteenth, nineteen hundred ninety-nine. She had died only two days after their last visit, and in some manner, he felt both cheated and that he was to blame. Closing his eyes as he turned away from Katie's grave, he stepped over to the wrought iron bench beneath the weeping magnolia, and sat down.

He moved slowly as he turned the envelope over in his hands, his fingers tracing over his name written in her delicate flowing script. His heart ached, his body feeling weighed down as he opened the envelope and withdrew the letter inside. 

_Gabriel,_

_I knew my end was much closer than what the doctors had predicted. I could feel it. I'm so glad I got to see you one last time. I've been thinking about our conversation, about the choices that lay ahead of you. To ignore the cries of a child, hurt you beyond measure, yet you've ignored them by your father's command for over a century. Sometimes, in order to be the person we are meant to be, we must first reject everything we have been._

_I cannot tell you what choice to make, or which path is the right one. Only you can decide that for yourself. You may not have said it in so many words, but I know you fear that somehow your father has lost faith in us - humanity - and perhaps you fear that's he's lost his faith in you. Perhaps, Gabriel, it is up to you to restore your father's faith in us all. I will miss you, my friend, but perhaps we will see each other again in Heaven. Come visit me, if you can._

_Always your friend,_  
_Katie_

Of all the humans he had known in his immortal life, Katie had been the one person he truly considered to be his friend. Even before she had learned the truth of him being an angel, she had known things about him that he hadn't told anyone else. She knew things about him that even his father didn't know. It was a misconception, the belief that his father was omniscient. It was true that he knew all, but the belief the masses held that He actually paid attention to everything was a lie. Knowing everything didn't amount to a pile of beans if you didn't pay any attention to it.

Gabriel bent forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he folded the letter closed and tucked it into the inside pocket of his grey sports coat. Reaching up, he tugged gently at the loose collar of the cream colored turtleneck fisherman's sweater he wore beneath his coat. He bowed his head as he folded his hands together and closed his eyes. Katie had been sixty-five when she died. Maybe it had been a full life, but he still felt that she had been cheated. For this world to have lost someone like her . . . He sighed as he heard the rush of wind, watched as the snow falling to the ground was held still in the air. 

"She asked about you."

Gabriel straightened and moved over to the side, giving his brother room to sit down if he desired to do so. He didn't say anything in response, had no need to verify the identity of the voice he knew so well. Uriel was possibly the only one who would come to him here, the only one who would have known of his connection to Katie, and only because she would've asked to see him when she arrived at the gates. He remained silent as he felt the bench move as his brother sat down next to him, the wood and wrought iron seat only allowing a foot of space between them.

"Gabe," Uriel said with a sigh, and Gabriel felt his eyes on him. "There wasn't anything you could have done, you know that. It was her time."

"She was a friend," Gabriel said, his voice soft. 

"I know," Uriel replied. "I wasn't so blind, you know. I used to watch over the two of you. I may never have understood the language the two of you created, but I listened to the music you and Lucifer made. You two were my troublesome kid brothers, always getting into something. I felt responsible for you two."

Gabriel released a harsh sigh, the sound both amused and angry. "So, you came here to rehash the past?" he asked his brother.

"I came here because I'm worried about you," Uriel told him. "Gabe, you haven't been close to anyone since Lucifer. You took his fall harder than anyone." He fell silent as he bent forward, his elbows resting on his knees, and Gabriel turned his head to meet his brother's concerned stare. "You pulled away from us, dove head first into your duties. You looked after the children, the innocents. You encouraged their talents, their passions. Symphonies of musicians, and armies of artists came into creation at your gentle instruction. You befriended the lost, helped the ones who felt unnoticed and abandoned find their passions and their places in the world. But you were still separate . . . Until Sister Katherine."

"Katie," Gabriel corrected him, and watched Uriel nod from the corner of his eye.

"Katie," Uriel repeated with a nod. "She was the first person you really allowed in since Lucifer. And now she's gone," he said. "You can slip into her heaven, talk with her there, but it'll never be the same. In time, you'll become nothing but a distant memory to her. She won't remember that you're an angel. She won't remember what you told her. After enough time, she won't even remember you at all. You'll still be able to visit her and talk to her inside of her heaven, she'll know how she feels about you, but she won't know who you are."

Gabriel scoffed, an almost angry laugh coming from him as he stood from the bench. "Is that why you're here, Uriel? To remind me of what I've lost?" he asked as he turned to stare at his brother, his gaze angry and hurt. "You could've waited till I got home for this. Was it so important that you had to seek me out?"

"Gabe." Uriel shook his head as he stood from the bench, his gaze worried and compassionate. "I'm not here to hurt you. You're spiraling. You haven't been home in over a year." He looked up toward the heavens, before shaking his head as he looked back at his brother. "The passing of time isn't as noticeable back home, but I feel it. I stand at the Gates, and I greet all the souls that wander in. You used to help me with the kids, the ones who couldn't accept their deaths, or didn't understand that they were dead. When Father gave his edict that you not interfere with what was happening with those children . . . It angered a lot of us, but you . . . I felt something break in you."

"What do you want from me?!" Gabriel demanded, his emotions at a breaking point.

"I want you to come home," Uriel told him. "Come be with your family. Come be surrounded by those who care about you," he said, and Gabriel turned away with an angry scoff. "You don't think we care about you?" he asked with concern.

"You know, my time spent watching over children has offered me a rather unique perspective," Gabriel told him as he stepped toward Katie's grave. "I have watched siblings fight and bicker, but I have also watched them defend one another fiercely." He fell silent as he stared down at the plain white marble headstone. "Sammie was the only one who ever stepped in between Michael and I. He was the only one who ever tried to defend me. The rest of you just turn a blind eye. Michael dislocates my wings, and not one of you cares. Not even Father. And it wasn't the first time Michael's done it, either," he said, and turned back to look at Uriel. "So tell me, exactly how does any of that speak to _family_?" he asked.

"Gabe," Uriel said as he stepped closer, and reached out to his brother. "Be careful."

"Of what?" Gabriel asked. " _Tell me, Uriel!_ " he shouted. "What _exactly_ am I supposed to be careful of?"

"This," Uriel said, his brows high on his forehead as he stared at his brother. "Gabriel, don't go down the same path Lucifer did. Don't rebel. Find another way."

Gabriel laughed, the sound choked and hateful, as tears stung behind his eyes. "Do you have _any idea_ how much it _hurts_ to ignore their prayers? Do you know what it's like to listen to them cry, and scream, and _beg_ for help, and not be able to go to them? I have asked Father, I have pleaded with Him, and argued with Him, but He will not lift His command. But you have nothing to worry about, _brother_ ," he sneered, his expression one of pain and resentment. "I don't have the same strength of will that Sammie did. None of us do. Even if I wanted to, I couldn't rebel, and believe me, I've wanted to more than once."

Gabriel stepped away from Uriel, his gaze cast toward the monastery in the distance. He shook his head when Uriel stepped closer to him, but refused to look at his brother.

"Go home, Uriel," Gabriel told him, his voice painfully quiet. "Just leave me alone."

Uriel sighed, and seconds later Gabriel felt the stirring of the air as his brother took flight. The snow fell around him once more, the white flakes making the world around him appear deceptively innocent. He closed his eyes as he fell to his knees, the sound of the terrified prayers screaming through his soul, breaking him with the pain of the children crying out for help. He was stuck in his own personal Hell, and the nightmare he found himself in had no end in sight. 

It took effort to stand, every muscle and bone aching as he spread his wings and took flight. None of his siblings understood the pain he was in, and the longer this went on, the more he believed that they didn't care. He landed unsteadily, hiding himself from mortal eyes, as he stepped up to the house, the soothing roar of the beach behind him. Every now and then he came here to check on her. She was the only child to get free, to make it out alive. This one was beyond brave, her spirit that of a fighter. He chuckled at the thought that she reminded him of his brother, of Lucifer, and wondered what the future would hold for her.

"You may have been the first, Chloe," Gabriel said as he watched her sitting at the kitchen table with her father. "But I pray you are not the last. May others hold the same fighting spirit you have."

**~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~**

His steps were slow as he walked down the well worn dirt path, his hands tucked into his pants pockets. The night surrounded him, shadows lengthening and bending around him as though they were trying to reach out to touch him in the darkness. Whether it was to offer him comfort, or warn him away, he wasn't sure. He'd been walking since early in the morning, and it was well after sunset now. There was no destination in mind, no purpose, or plan. 

After almost three months of blessed silence, the cries had come again, desperate and tearing. He'd been woken from a deep sleep by the pain the prayers inspired, and no matter how he had tried, he hadn't been able to break his father's command. Pain filled every cell of his body, from the joints of his feet to the feathered tips of his wings. He was tired, but he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep, not with the prayers pulling at him.

Gabriel's steps slowed as he came to stand in front of a delicately constructed wrought iron bench, and looked up at the marble statue standing behind it. Anger and betrayal filled him, burning through him hotter than the fires of Hell as he stared up at a carving of himself. The statue may not actually look like him, but the wings of an angel were spread behind the carved man, the scroll in his left hand declaring the statue to be 'Gabriel, Guardian Angel of Children', while a newborn baby was held in the curve of the statue's right arm.

An angry hateful laugh sounded from him as he turned away from the effigy, and shook his head as he looked up. His breath caught in the back of his throat as he realized where he had wandered into, and he felt his heart constrict as he stared in horror at his surroundings. It was a cemetery, but one specifically for children. A harsh sob tore from his throat as he shook his head and backed away, only to stumble into a monument. He turned to look at the stone, and found it had been set in dedication to the lost children, the ones lost to their parents through kidnapping, or natural disasters. The endless rows of names that had been commemorated because there had been no bodies to bury stared at him, blaming him, and he felt himself break.

He fell to his knees as he screamed, the sound one of agony and grief. His eyes closed as he sobbed, and breathed harshly as he felt arms wrap around his shoulders. Whoever was with him pulled him closer, tucking his head beneath their chin, as he trembled and cried. He sobbed harder when he felt wings wrap around him, and knew it was another angel that was with him. There was no break from the pain, no separating himself from the lost souls crying out for help, crying out to him. 

"Let me take you home, Gabe," Uriel said to him, his voice choked. "The pain will be dulled there, you won't feel the prayers as strongly."

"As though that makes any of this better," Gabriel responded, his words broken around his gasping breaths. "I won't go home. I can't. It's not my home anymore, Uriel. It hasn't been in a long time."

Uriel sighed heavily, his breath ruffling Gabriel's hair. "What will you do?" he asked, and let his arms fall away when his brother pulled back.

"I don't know," Gabriel said, struggling to his feet, his stance unsteady. "I haven't figured that out, yet."

"Just don't stay here," Uriel asked of him as he looked at the cemetery around them. "Go where there's life. Find something here that will bring you peace."

Gabriel wrapped his arms around himself as he nodded and turned away from Uriel. As much as he wanted the comfort his brother offered, he couldn't stand to receive it. Each child that died, each child that screamed out for help, their torment was his fault. That's how it felt to him. For the past century, he had felt that he was to blame for it all, and no matter who tried to offer him comfort, he couldn't accept it. Who was he to receive solace and compassion when they were dead because of him? 

He felt Uriel touch his shoulder once more before the wind stirred with his brother's departure. There was only so much a person could take, and even angels had their limits. The pain was still too much for him to fly yet, and he moved to sit on the bench. He tried to ignore the fact that there was a statue of him behind him, and closed his eyes as he bent forward, his forearms on his elbows as he dropped his head. His hands hung down between his knees as he stared at the grass by his feet.

"I don't understand why you're doing this," Gabriel said, knowing his father would hear him. "Why would you let them suffer? Why would you have me suffer? I can help those children, I can restore those broken families. Why, Father? Why would you have us all be in pain, rather than see us be safe and happy?"

Gabriel closed his eyes as a single tear escaped to roll down his cheek. He couldn't do this anymore. He couldn't stand by and watch them suffer. The command his father held him under meant that he couldn't interfere after a child was taken, but that was all, and he had had enough. Nodding to himself as he stood from the bench, Gabriel knew his decision had been made. Whatever came of it, so be it.

**~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~**

_Gabriel_

Gabriel breathed in deeply as he opened his eyes, waking to the sound of his name being whispered to him. This wasn't his father calling him, or any of his siblings, he thought as he sat up in his bed. He frowned as he leaned back against the intricately carved wooden headboard, and waited to see if more of the prayer would come. His lips turned up in a slow smile as he heard the sound of claws clicking on the bare wood floor, and patted his thigh over the blankets. Seconds later, he felt the bed dip beside him as the Bernese Mountain dog he'd adopted jumped up next to him. 

Reaching out to grip the large dog behind his jaws, Gabriel scratched the beast and smiled at the way his tail wagged happily. He chuckled when the dog moved to lay next to him, the front half of his body lying over his lap as though the beast was laying claim to him. Closing his eyes as he petted the dog's fur, and scratching him behind his ears, Gabriel leaned his head back against the headboard and waited. 

_I don't know if you're real, or if you can even hear me. I'm not very religious, and I can't say it made much sense to me, the idea of some mystical powerful being watching over us._

His brow furrowed in curiosity as he listened to the gentle prayer, feeling the light of two souls coming through the connection, and gave himself over as he listened to woman's gentle words.

_There was a picture of you on the wall in the hospital, an angel dressed in robes, and playing a horn. To be honest, the mural made you look pretty feminine._

Gabriel laughed as he nodded. Almost all the murals he had seen that were meant to be portraits of him had looked pretty feminine. One distracted stroke of the paintbrush, and the waves of his robes could be made to look like a woman's bust. He rolled his eyes as he laughed, and shook his head. There was something very soothing in the prayer, no matter how distracted the woman's tone and thoughts seemed to be. Her voice calmed him, drew him in, and he moved the dog back as he stood from the bed.

"I'll be back in a bit, Sammy," Gabriel told his pet, and rubbed the top of his head between the animal's ears. "Keep the bed warm for me," he said, and watched as the dog stretched out across the blankets.

Spreading his wings, Gabriel took flight, and followed the energy of the prayer through the darkness of the midnight world. He landed silently with grace inside of a small nursery. The walls had been painted a deep muted red, a single thick strip of mahogany running horizontally across the middle of the walls. The woman sat in a wooden rocker with a blanket wrapped infant in her arms, the crib in front of her handcrafted from oak and stained a deep brown.

He kept himself hidden from her view as he stepped closer, his wings spread in a gentle arc. The child in her arms couldn't be more than a few hours old, and he smiled as he reached down to touch the patch of downy soft blonde hair. Her mother's eyes were closed, the woman mostly asleep, as she sat rocking her newborn child. Her hair was brown with caramel tones, the color speaking of her mixed heritage, and he smiled as reached out to brush her hair over her shoulder.

Her dark eyes opened as she moved slowly, her socked foot pushing against the floor to rock the chair lazily. He watched her blink tiredly, and bow her head to kiss her child's hair. There was a certain kind of comfort that came from holding a sleeping baby, the way the child's warmth infused the person holding them, the scent of their innocence soothing and calm. 

_She was such an easy birth_ , the woman's prayer continued, her eyes closed as she rocked her baby. _The picture of you was what I focused on as I gave birth to her. She came so fast, and the place was so crowded, that I gave birth right there in the hall. They wanted to take me to a room, and keep us both overnight, but all I wanted to do was come home. Oh Gabriel. My husband's an ADA, and I'm a cop. I know we both work in dangerous professions, but we are trying everyday to make this world a better place for her, and all the children like her. All I ask is that you help me protect her. Keep her safe when I can't._

Gabriel closed his eyes as he let the power his father gave him fill his being, Heaven's light shining through to make his skin and feathers glow. He knew the instant she felt his presence, and watched her eyes widen as she turned her head to stare at him. He bowed close to her, reaching his hands out to touch her head, and her child's. Stepping closer, he knelt beside her chair and spread his wings to wrap them around mother and child as he bent close to kiss the child's head.

"I am real, little mother," he spoke to the woman, and smiled gently as he infused a delicate touch of his power into the baby, marking her as his. "You and your child shall have my protection. As you have asked," he spoke to her, and kissed the woman's hair as he stood. "So shall it be."

Gabriel watched her lips part in stunned silence as she gasped, and smiled gently as her eyes followed him. He knew that she was tired, the feel of her soul speaking to her exhaustion, and perhaps that was why he showed himself to her, he thought. She would be too tired to think him anything more than a dream, but in that moment, he knew he would allow nothing to harm her, or her child. If the darkness came after Sophia, then he would be there to keep her safe and strong. Spreading his wings to their full extension, he closed his eyes and let his power flow through him and out into the room, filling the nursery with the warmth and brightness of the heavenly light.

Pulling his power back into himself as he let his wings fall into a relaxed posed, he closed his eyes and released a slow breath. His lips twitched in amusement as he watched the disbelief and wonder cross the woman's face. She was almost asleep where she sat watching him, he thought, and stepped closer. Bowing his head in a slow nod, he met her gaze before looking to her child, and touched the backs of his fingers to the baby's cheek before slowly hiding himself, and knowing that it must have looked to her as though he had simply faded from sight.

"I must be more tired than I thought," she said, and shook her head as she turned her attention back down to the baby in her arms. "Olivia, you are imagining things again. Put Sophia down, and go to bed," she told herself.

Gabriel watched Olivia as she rocked Sophia a few more times before sliding her foot against the floor to stop the chair's movement. She stood slowly from her seat, the warmth and love in her eyes drawing him in like a moth to a flame as she lowered her newborn daughter into the crib and raised the sides to keep her safe. He watched her tuck small pillows and teddy bears around the baby to hold her safely in place, before she kissed her fingertips and touched her daughter's brow. 

"Goodnight, my angel. Welcome into this world," Olivia whispered to her daughter, and Gabriel smiled as he watched her shuffle tiredly from the room.

Gabriel moved away from the window, and walked silently toward the crib. Looking down on the sleeping infant, he touched his fingers to her hair, and smiled softly as he brushed the backs of his fingers over her warm cheek. His father had been the one to task him with protecting them, these innocent souls, and yet it had been his father who had turned that same gift into the most heartbreaking and devastating curse he had ever known. Turning his attention back to the window, he closed his eyes and spread his wings. Taking a long gold feather from his wing, he laid it down on top of the infant and watched as the feather disappeared into her body. 

"This is where I draw the line," Gabriel said as he turned his attention back to the window, and looked to the stars from where he stood next to the crib. "I won't stand idly by anymore. Olivia and Sophia are mine to protect. Help me protect them, Father. Prove to me, just this once, that you haven't lost your faith in all of us . . . in me."

**~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~**

Gabriel fell from the sky, his flight cut short by the shock of grief that bore through him as though he'd been punched in the chest. He landed hard on the ground, his body aching, but uninjured. It was hard to breathe, the agony that ripped through him pulling a broken cry from deep within his chest, the sound primal and pained. Tears filled his eyes, though none fell, his spirit aching and broken as he stayed lying on his side, his eyes squeezed closed as he tried to ride out the waves of emotion.

He didn't think as he opened himself to the emotion and followed the pull of the agony he felt, his power drawing him to the one who was grieving. His brow furrowed when he found the girl he often checked in on sitting alone on the beach. She was staring out into the water, the midnight sky turning the water black, as the stars reflected on top of the gentle waves. There was no expression on her face, no tears to dampen her skin, or speak of her grief, but he felt every tear in her soul as though it were his own. 

"Mind if I join you?" he asked, amazed at how steady his voice sounded.

"Sure," the girl nodded, her eyes only barely glancing at him before she turned back to the water.

"You look sad," he observed, and watched her drop her head in a slow nod. "What happened?"

"My dad," she said, her voice choked, before she cleared her throat and appeared to swallow her grief. "My dad died. He was killed tonight."

"I'm sorry," he said, his brow furrowed as her pain made sense to him. "Do they know what happened?" he asked, and watched her sniff back her tears as she nodded.

"He was trying to stop a robbery in progress. Daddy was a cop, a damn good cop," she told him. "He got caught in the cross fire. He was just trying to protect people, and he got killed."

"I'm so sorry," he told her, and drew in a deep breath. "Can I ask you something?"

"I guess," she answered with a shrug.

"I saw the cover, but I haven't watched it," he prefaced his question, and sighed as he tried to think of the best way to ask his question. "You don't really strike me as the actress type. Not saying you can't do it, but . . . You seem like the kind of person who wants more."

He watched her smile as she released a breathy chuckle. "You got all of that from sitting next to me?" she asked with disbelief.

"We actually met a long time ago," he told her with a one shouldered shrug. "As I recall," he said with a bit of amusement, "you had a hell of a right hook. You certainly knocked Ricky Bones on his ass."

She made a sound of surprise, only to groan at the memory and laughed. "I can't believe anyone remembers that," she said as she chuckled, and shook her head. "My one and only grade school fight. Mom wasn't impressed, but Daddy was. Do you know what he told me when he picked me up from school?" she asked him, and Gabriel shook his head as he felt the suffocating noose of her grief ease. "He told me that next time I needed to turn my whole body into the punch, it would keep me from hurting my hand so bad. And," she told him with a smile. "He said that while he may not like that I got into a fight, he couldn't be mad at me for protecting someone smaller than me from a bully. Daddy was proud of me for that."

"What do you want to do with your life, Chloe?" Gabriel asked her after a few moments, the silence between them broken only by the gentle sound of the surf.

"I want to help people like Daddy did," she told him softly, her head tipped back as the moonlight illuminated her face. "I want to make a difference."

"Then go make a difference," Gabriel whispered to her, and watched her sit with her eyes closed. "Go fight the good fight."

He stood from the sand slowly, his movements silent, and hid himself from mortal sight as he heard her mother calling for her. She turned her head to look back toward her mother, before turning her attention back to the beach around her. He knew that she was looking for him, but he was only here to guide, to give a gentle nudge. As much as he wanted to wrap his arms around her and tell her that everything would be ok, it wasn't his place to do so. He felt the air around him stir, and felt the presence of the one sibling who had looked out for him since all of this had begun.

"If she becomes even half the cop her dad was," Uriel said from behind him, and Gabriel smiled as he nodded.

"She'll change the world . . . "

**~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~**

He could feel the danger and anticipation in the air, like demons whispering in the night. His brow furrowed as he looked around the emerald grasses, the park surrounded on every side by a thick stand of trees. There were oaks and maples, weeping pines, and even a few willows. He watched their leaves stir and shake, the world trying to warn him of the coming danger. 

Gabriel looked to his side, watching as Olivia spread out the old quilt in the grass to be used as a picnic blanket. He looked to the side, his eyes catching sight of her husband, Derek. The man was holding Sophia's hand, the little girl smiling up at him happily. Her blonde hair was held up in pigtails on either side of her head, red ribbons had been tied over the hair elastics to add a bit of color. She was happy and energetic, her blue eyes shining with delight.

He frowned when he felt the wind shift and looked back to see that Michael and Raphael had come to join him. Of all his siblings, these were the two who hated being near humans the most. He knew they both believed that humans were beneath them, barely worth the effort, so why were they here? His eyes widened as he turned back at the sudden shock of panic that swelled in his chest, and moved without thought to intercept the man who was carrying Sophia away from her father, his hand over her mouth to keep her quiet.

Gabriel struggled and raged as he was seized from behind, his arms held by each of his brothers. They kept him in place as he tried to fight his way to Sophia, screaming out even as his brothers' combined power kept them all hidden from the humans around them. Lightening cracked across the sunlit sky, his rage powerful enough to command the skies, and he pulled harder against the brothers who restrained him. Of all the children to be taken, his father had allowed it to be Sophia. 

He felt her fear as though it were his own, and fought harder for his freedom. All he wanted to do was go to her, to take her away from the man who had abducted her, and keep her safe. She was his to protect, he had promised Sophia and her mother that he would always keep them safe, and now he was breaking that promise. He screamed in rage and grief as he heard Olivia's prayer, her terror filling his mind, until all he knew was their fear and pain. 

White light filled his eyes from edge to edge, shining out from within as he let his anger take control, and gathered the last of his strength. He closed his eyes as he took in a deep breath, and in one moment of strength, he threw his brothers from him, his wings extended out to their fullest as he stared at them in rage. Lightening cracked across the blue sky to hit a wooden pole, sparks exploding from the transformer box as the wooden pole was split in half from top to bottom, the wood folding down to either side.

"Gabriel!" 

He turned at the sound of his brother's voice, Uriel's tone at once both angry and deeply concerned. Gabriel met his steady gaze with rage, his once blue green eyes burning white hot with emotions that would no longer be controlled. He had drawn the line and his father, without care, or concern, had crossed it. Maybe now he understood how Samael felt, he thought. To be pushed to the breaking point until there was nothing left to do, but fight against the family you had once loved.

"No," Gabriel growled low, his tone dangerous as his brothers advanced on him. "I. Have. Had. Enough."

He spread his wings and took flight, unable to stay there any longer. Closing his eyes as he flew, he searched within him for Sophia, only to shake with fury when he found her to be missing. He wouldn't be able to find her if she were asleep. He had to wait for her to be awake again. He had to wait for her to be afraid again. Landing on top of an old cathedral, Gabriel turned his attention toward the heaven's and released the anger and pain of his father's betrayal in a mighty roar.

" _I trusted you! They trusted you! And for what?!_ " he screamed at his father as tears of anguish rolled down his cheeks. " _Why would you let this happen?! How could you do this?!_ " He shook his head as he moved closer to a stone gargoyle and sat down on the tiled roof. "I don't know what your plan was," he said, his voice softer, defeated. "But I'm done. I'm just done."

"Gabe." 

He looked up at the sound of Uriel's voice, the betrayal he felt written on his face, and stared at his brother in anger.

"Come home," Uriel offered the invitation. "At least for right now. Just until you figure out what to do."

"I promised them, Uriel," Gabriel said, his anger and grief rolling into a hateful sound. "I gave Sophia one of my feathers, and He just . . . "

"I know," Uriel said, his tone sad as he stepped closer to him. "Come home, Gabe. Don't even worry about Dad. Come home, go see Katie before it's too late. Before there's nothing left for her to remember."

"Katie . . ." Gabriel spoke her name with a shuddering sigh, and nodded as he felt a pain so deep, that he was numb because of it.

"Come on," Uriel encouraged gently, and helped him to his feet. "I'll take you to her myself. Just close your eyes, Gabe. Close your eyes and in seconds you'll be with Katie."

"I can't . . . " Gabriel trailed off, his voice falling into a trembling whisper. "I can't do this, Uriel. I can't . . ."

"I know," Uriel said, soothing his brother as he held him to his side. "Just hang on," he told him, and Gabriel nodded as he closed his eyes tiredly. 

All of it had just become too much to bear. How many times over the years had Uriel told him to trust that their father had a plan, a reason for all that was happening? He had tried. For so long he had tried to trust in his father's plan, held out hope in his benevolence, and believed that He wouldn't willingly allow these innocent souls to come to harm unless there was a reason behind it. But the longer all of this went on, the more and more he lost his ability to believe in his father. The more he lost his ability to believe in himself. 

It was his job, his purpose to protect the innocent souls. He was the one tasked with watching over them, guiding them to who they were meant to be. He had fostered so many children, encouraged their love of art, music, sciences, history. He had watched them grow into teachers, nurses, doctors, musicians, painters, astronomers, and so much more, but now . . . Now all he had been left to do was watch them die. Instead of the soaring fascination, the beauty of their hopes and dreams, he was left to feel their pain, their fear, and watch slowly as their hope died, and their lives faded away. 

In the beginning, he had believed his father's edict to be a punishment, but no matter how hard he searched, he couldn't find the reason why. The punishment hadn't been his, and the children had only begun to live their lives when the torment began. Their parents came from all walks of life. Some were bad, some were good, some had sacrificed just for the chance to be a parent. He had tried to ask his father about it several times, but at each turn his father had deflected his questions, until He had finally told Gabriel not to speak of it any more. 

"Gabe." Gabriel opened his eyes and met Uriel's concerned gaze. "We're here," Uriel said, and nodded to the rolling emerald hills. "Katie loved the monastery so much that it's her heaven," he told Gabriel. "She's waiting for you under the old oak tree."

Gabriel nodded silently as he stepped away from his brother. He was back in Heaven, a place where he was more of a spiritual entity than he was physical, but the pain remained. He closed his eyes as he leaned against a weeping pine, and watched as the sky changed. Time only existed here if the inhabiting soul wanted it to, and he smiled as he recognized the ribbons of red and gold, the undercurrent of bluish purple. He remembered this particular twilight because he had watched it happen. The first time Katie had laid in the grass beside him, the only time she had curled into his side and laid her head on his chest.

"I've been wondering when I would see you."

Gabriel turned his head slowly, and met the gently smiling gaze of the woman standing to his right. She was beautiful, as always. Her hair had once more returned to its deep mahogany luster, natural highlights of red and gold shining through. The habit she had worn for most of her life was gone, relaxed civilian clothing in its place. He smiled as she stepped closer. Here in Heaven, Katie was once again twenty five, and she would remain so until she chose to see herself at a different age. He held out his hand to her, and smiled tiredly when she tucked herself under his arm against his side. 

"I never told you," Katie said softly as she looked up at him. "But there were so many times when I was younger that I thought about giving up my habit for you," she told him, and he watched her brow furrow in concern when he smiled tiredly. "What's wrong?" she asked, and he closed his eyes when she lifted her hand to his face.

"I fear I'm losing my faith," he told her softly, his voice pained. 

"Come lay down with me," she told him, bracing him as she walked with him to the rise of the hill. "Easy does it," she soothed him as she helped him down until they were kneeling in the grass.

Gabriel chuckled when she pushed him to lie in the grass, letting her command his movements, and smiled when she curled against his side. He blinked slowly as he wrapped his arm around her back, holding her to him, as he closed his eyes. She had always been easy to talk to, the council she provided him something he would be eternally grateful for. He looked down when she rubbed her hand over the center of his chest, her gentle nudge reminding him that she expected him to talk.

"How much do you remember?" he asked her, and rubbed his hand over her shoulder when she curled closer to him.

"I remember everything, all that we talked about, resetting your wings," she told him, and met his gaze when he turned his head to look at her. "The pain you're in and your father's edict."

Gabriel nodded slowly. He sighed, the breath rolling out of him from the back of his throat, and chuckled softly, the sound without humor. He began slowly, telling her what he could of the beginning, reminding her of all there had been. His voice was soft, his tone rough, as he told her about Olivia's prayer. He didn't even know why he had chosen them, not initially. He had taken his stand, told his father he would allow nothing to happen to them, but after so much time he finally knew. Olivia didn't believe in his father, she hadn't believed in any deity really, but she had chosen to pray to him. 

"I gave Sophia one of my feathers," he told Katie, and blinked quickly as he tried to force his tears back. "I gave her a piece of myself so that she may always be protected," he told her, his voice shaking. "I can always find her because of that, but she has to be awake, and right now she's not."

"What happened to her?" Katie asked him, rolling closer to lift herself up and lie on his chest.

Gabriel smiled tiredly, his eyes meeting hers as he smoothed his hands down over her hair, and closed his eyes. He laid his head back in the grass and sighed as he began to tell her about the day's events. The joy and comfort of watching Sophia and her mother at the park. The feel of the connection between them, the way it felt for his spirit to wrap around theirs for the simple fact that he had given his feather, and with it a bit of his power, to Sophia. He felt her emotions more deeply than he did other children, her happiness and wonder more than a bit infectious, even a bit addictive. But that day when he had felt her fear, her terror, and had been held back from going to her.

"Something in me just . . . broke," he told her. 

"The way you describe Sophia, and maybe it's because you gave her one of your feathers," Katie said, "you sound . . . paternal. Like you're talking about your daughter."

His lips pulled up at the corner in a lopsided grin. "Sometimes it feels like she is my daughter. I've looked out for her since the night she was born. I came to her because her mother prayed to me. I . . . "

"Gabriel." He turned to meet Katie's gaze when she stopped him, her eyes holding him immobile for the intensity of her sincerity. "For all you have done, for all she means to you, Sophia is your daughter. Go to her, however you can. Don't let anyone stand in your way, not even your father."

**~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~**

Time held no meaning in Heaven. It was the one thing that was the hardest about being there, Gabriel thought as he sat with his back against the old oak tree inside of Katie's heaven. He smiled as he chuckled silently to himself. It hadn't escaped his notice that she hadn't worn her habit once since being here. She was dressed casually, flared blue jeans, a champagne colored bell sleeved peasant blouse, and a pair of simple white tennis shoes. He hadn't ever seen her wear the clothes she was in now, but he couldn't say that he was displeased with her wardrobe. 

"Gabriel," Katie called to him, and he looked up to meet her gaze as she climbed the hill toward him. "Not that I don't enjoy having you here," she said as she stepped closer to him across the grass. "But don't you think you've been here long enough?"

"What do you mean?" he asked her, as he watched her walk toward him, her hair fluttering in the slow breeze. 

"Of all the people you could visit here, in this vast expanse of all the people who have lived and died over the many centuries of human existence," she said, and he chuckled as she fell to her knees in the grass beside him. "Why do you stay here with me? You could be visiting with Da Vinci, or Mozart, or Puccini, but instead you're here with me."

"I like being here with you," he told her honestly, and smiled as he looked up through the boughs of the tree. "It's easier to reach Sophia here. I can slip into her dreams so easily. I've kept her holding on."

"Hand," she demanded of him, holding her hand out for him to take. "I've learned a few tricks in my time here, and that monastery you see in the distance is not filled with the memories of my sisters."

"Katie . . . " he hedged as he took her hand, and let her pull him to his feet. "Where are you taking me?"

"To where you need to be," she told him cryptically. 

He followed behind her as she led him down the slope of the hill and through the fields of flowers to the monastery. He expected to see the halls of the monastery, windows and doors with religious markings, but instead found himself inside what appeared to be an expansive meeting hall. His brow furrowed as he looked around and tried to understand what he was seeing. This was more than a meeting hall, more than a building. This . . .

"I told you," Katie said, interrupting his thoughts. "I've learned a few tricks," she told him. "When I asked Uriel where you were when I arrived, he cautioned me that in time I would forget you. And then, I met Ami," she said with a laugh. "Turns out she's an angel, too. She told me that if I could connect with the other lives you've touched, I wouldn't forget you, or at least not as quickly. Do you remember telling me about Chloe? The girl who escaped?"

Gabriel nodded quietly as she led him to a door down the hall. He frowned in curiosity as he watched her raise her fist to knock on the door. The door opened just a crack, an invitation offered in silence and received as gracefully. She pushed the door open as she led him through the brilliant light that filled the in between and settled into the warmth of a kitchen. Coffee was brewing on the counter, a bottle of whiskey sitting next to the coffee maker. 

"Katie?" Gabriel turned to her as he watched her pour herself a cup of coffee, and declined when she offered him one. "Where are we?"

"In my heaven," a male voice sounded, and Gabriel turned to watch as a man who appeared to be in his early forties walked into the room. "Apparently, all this God bullshit is real. And here I thought God was nothing more than the enduring imaginary friend that never went away."

Gabriel chuckled, the sound turning into a full rolling laugh, and nodded. He liked this man. There was something about him, he thought, something that seemed far too familiar. He knew the man, or he had, but who was he?

"So, you're Gabriel," the man said, and Gabriel nodded in reply. "Detective Alvar Decker L.A.P.D," he introduced himself, and then rolled his eyes. "I guess here, I'm just Al."

"Chloe's father," Gabriel breathed out. his eyes wide with recognition.

"You know my hellcat?" Alvar asked with a grin.

"Yes, Sir, I do," Gabriel said with a slow nod. "She's a strong girl."

"She is," he agreed. "Katie here tells me you've got a lead into this case," he said, and nodded back to the table behind him. "Dead, or not, a cop never stops working the case that haunts them."

"You remember all this information?" Gabriel asked with surprise as he moved to look at the files and papers spread across the table.

"My own daughter's abduction?" Alvar asked in return. "What parent could forget that? I was closing in on the people behind this before I was killed, and I know that was a bad shoot."

"What would you have me do?" Gabriel asked. "I can't stop what's happening. Believe me, I've tried, but I can't."

"What you need to do, is hit the ground running," he said. "Go down there and talk to Jackson Foggerty. He's an old friend of mine. He's in Seattle now, runs The Emerald City Saloon. I sent him a package to hold onto for me until I, or someone I sent, came to pick it up. Tell him Paladin sent you. It'll give you a starting point," he told Gabriel. "And when you find my baby," he added with a pointed glare. "You come back here and you tell me how she is."

"Yes, Sir," Gabriel responded with a chuckle.


	25. Chapter 24 "Gabby"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "To understand why one would choose rebellion, you first must be able to see where they have been." - author unknown

AN: Lucifer and all recognizable characters belong to Jerry Bruckheimer and FOX television. Set post 'Take Me Back to Hell'. . (Written prior to the start of season 2.)

 

Summary: There is only one thing that can make an immortal vulnerable, only one thing that can hurt an angel aside from another angel - their mate. It was only a rumor, a baseless myth, something Amenadiel had never believed, until it happened to Lucifer.

**Memento Mori**

Chapter 24

**_"Gabby"_ **

by WhisperingWolf


_"Yesterday we obeyed kings and bent our necks before emperors. But today we kneel only to truth, follow only beauty, and obey only love." - Kahlil Gibran_

Feather grey eyes turned up to look at the sky, only to fall back down as the woman shook her head. The last week she had spent in D.C. had been nothing but thunderstorms and dark skies. Two days ago, she'd arrived in Seattle, and the weather had been grey clouds, steady rains, and cold winds. But today, on the one day she wanted the dark skies the most, and it was sunny and bright outside, warm even for a Spring day in Seattle. The beauty of the day almost seemed like a betrayal to her in light of her father's funeral, and the emptiness of the grief that surrounded her. 

She hadn't been back here in years, not since joining the academy and becoming an agent. Her mind was too sharp, her drive too great, and when she had earned her chance to be part of the BAU, she hadn't hesitated for a second. Her father had been her most steadfast supporter. There had never been a moment when he hadn't told her how proud of her he was. So many phone calls had ended with him telling her she was going to change the world. Two weeks ago, all of that had changed.

She had spent almost seven years working in the FBI, five of those years spent exclusively as part of the BAU. She had often been called a rising star in her field, one of the best, and youngest, profilers ever seen. Every day she faced down serial killers, child molesters, and so many different monsters created out of the evils of humanity. She hadn't flinched once. But being notified that her father had been shot in the line duty while trying to stop a robbery in progress had been her undoing. He had been on life support, and she was the only family they could call on to make the decision to let him go. 

Jackson Foggerty had been a highly decorated member of the Seattle Police Department. He had remained a beat cop with steady hours to his schedule until she had entered high school, and then, on her first day of freshman year, he had taken the detective's exam. It had taken her almost three months to realize that he had only taken the test then because he had been confident that if anything happened to him, she could care for herself. He had been all she had. Her mother had died in childbirth when she was four, her baby brother dying with her. 

Taking the silver key ring from her pocket, she smiled sadly down at the plastic case that held a picture of her and her father. It had been taken just outside of this place on the opening day, she mused as she studied the image of her younger self with her father, before moving to unlock the door of the establishment. The tiny bell above the door rang out its merry tune, and she turned her eyes up to look at the little copper bell held at an odd angle. She had been the one to hang it, using her father's screwdriver to affix it to the frame above the door while she'd sat on his shoulders. 

Her mother's death had been hard on them all. Her grandfather and uncle had wanted to give her and her father a fresh start, something new to focus on, and when she was five, she had helped the men build this bar. The Emerald City Saloon. She smiled as she looked around at the stained glass windows, and the old style dark wood and black stuffed leather bench seats. She still remembered watching her father carve the Celtic design by hand into the wood above the front door of the pub, but only they knew that underneath the design, painted in red at the center, were the ruby slippers Dorothy had worn in Oz. 

The bar had been named in honor of her mother's favorite movie, a way to always remember her, and not for the city it was in as everyone believed. The old style Irish pub had quickly become a favorite for the city's finest, as well as any service men and women passing through the shore leave. Her father had been a cop since before she was born, her grandfather a retired Marine and retired S.W.A.T officer, and her uncle had been a Navy pilot. Over the past five years she had lost them all, one by one. And now, as she looked up around the pub, she realized she had no one left.

This place was all she had left of her family. Every important moment in her life had happened here. Her sixth birthday had taken place here, an event that had been reserved for friends and family had also been the pub's first introduction to the public. Her grandmother had worked in the pub's kitchen, baking her famous Shepherd's Pie, and her father's favorite slow roast barbeque pulled pork sandwiches. That night she had gotten to sit at the bar like a real patron and was served a piece of her favorite Devil's Food and Angel white checkerboard cake complete with a Shirley Temple in a special martini glass.

Gabby smiled as she looked up at the handmade wooden glass rack hung above the bar. The glass was still there, she noted with a chuckle, and pulled it down to twirl it in the late afternoon light. When she was a little girl, she had thought the glass to be made of magic, but as she grew older she had recognized the special polymer for being able to refract the light into rainbow patterns around it. Her smile was bittersweet as she studied the glass, a single tear rolling down her cheek. Knowing the science behind the light refraction had never taken away the magic she felt when she watched the light bend and break into its separate colors. 

She'd had her first date here, her father closing the bar to the public that night while he had made it special for her. He'd made her feel treasured, like a princess, and no one had ever been able to compare. She laughed as she remembered her best friend telling her that her father had only gone to such extravagance in order to watch over her and the boy she'd been with. The reasoning behind it had never mattered to her, only the way it had made her feel to see the bar decorated with tiny white string lights, and accented by the sound of soft music. 

Her eyes closed as she wiped away a tear and laughed at the memory of her first broken heart. Her father had hugged her, told her that the boy hadn't been good enough for her anyway, and then taken her down to the police shooting range. He'd taught her to hold, clean, and shoot a nine millimeter Glock, and then repeated the lesson with a rifle. It had been a constant source of amusement to both her and her father that she had often been pitted against members of the department for target practice and come out the winner. Her hands were steady, her aim true, and it had been a consulting FBI agent to her father's station who had taken a liking to her, and ignited her interest in the academy.

She'd graduated at the top of her class in all fields, and her father couldn't have been prouder. A tearful laugh sounded from her as she recalled her graduation from the FBI academy. She had hoped to see him there in the crowd, but what she hadn't expected was to see all of the police officers and detectives from his precinct that she considered to be as close as family. Every single one of them had come in their dress blues, even the Lieutenant. 

She closed her eyes as she took in a deep breath. It had only been a few days since she'd left her work at the FBI behind, but already it felt like it was a lifetime ago. She had always told herself to never make any life altering decisions while in a high emotional state, but this time felt different. When she had left Quantico, it hadn't felt like an extended leave, it had felt like an end to an era. The BAU was something she never thought she'd want to give up, but now she wasn't so sure. Was it grief, or a desire for something new, that made her feel ambivalent to her life in Quantico, she wondered.

"Oh, Daddy, I miss you," Gabby said as she stared at the image of him on the funeral paper.

She looked up when the door opened, the bell ringing, and smiled as she greeted Emanuel Ruiz, the main bartender and the man her father had trusted to run the bar for the past decade. 

"Hey, SG," he greeted her, and she offered him a tearful smile. "Any ideas what you're going to do with the place?" he asked her as he stepped up to the bar.

"I don't want to sell it," she told him immediately, shaking her head as she made him a glass of club soda with a slice of grapefruit and lime. "This place is like my home, Manny. I can't sell it."

"That's a relief," Manny returned with a grin. "Your dad swore you'd never sell it, but I think your aunt was hoping you would."

Gabby scoffed and shook her head. "If Claire had it her way, I'd sell the bar today and let her parade prospective clients around in it while she told them stories about the 'great dead cop' who gave birth to it. She'd sell her own mother if she thought she could get something out of it. She cares about nothing except profit margins and commissions."

The man laughed as he nodded in agreement. "Don't sugar coat it on my account," he said with a chuckle. "How long you in town for?"

"I don't know yet," she said, and released a deep sigh. "I took an OEL from work. After everything that's happened in the past four months, they were more than happy to grant my leave."

"The FBI granted you an open-ended leave? What happened?" he asked her with a frown. "According to Jack everything was going great."

"That's because that's what I told him," she said. "Four months ago, we were working a case in Pittsburg. The unsub had been kidnapping, torturing, and killing kids."

"Wait the Clown Maker?" he interrupted her. "That was your team?"

She nodded. "I hate the names the press give these monsters, like they're somehow celebrating the atrocities they commit. We caught the guy, but not before he'd already created the scars on his last victim. The hardest part was knowing that he was mutilating them while they were still alive. He drugged them. They weren't even granted the mercy of being unconscious, the drug he used kept them awake and aware of everything, they just couldn't move. He used an X-acto knife like a paintbrush and cut their faces to make them look like clowns. The worst part," she told him with a heavy sigh, "he wasn't outright killing the kids. They were dying from blood loss, shock, even cardiac arrest."

"Fuck," Manny said, his eyes wide as he stared at her. 

"Yeah," she returned. "We had him trapped, but he was determined not to go back to prison. He shot me in the arm, and got the out he wanted. Suicide by cop."

"You were shot?" he asked her with alarm. "Your dad never said anything about it."

"That's because he didn't know." She looked toward the door when the bell jingled, and frowned curiously at the man with honey blond hair, undertoned with strands of red-gold. "We're closed," she told him, her tone friendly and curious, and met his gaze when he looked at her. 

"Oh," he said with a slow nod. "Do you know where I can find Jackson Foggerty?" he asked, and Gabby took in a shaking breath.

"You can't," she told him softly, her eyes falling to the bar as she blinked back her tears. "He died a few days ago. Why were you looking for him?" she asked curiously as she met his gaze, and frowned at how familiar he felt to her.

"He was holding on to some information for a friend of mine," he told her, and shook his head as he stepped up to the bar. "I'm sorry, how rude of me. I'm Gabriel."

"Ya don't say?" Manny said with a wide smile, and looked at Gabby with a teasing grin. "SG, I think the universe is - "

"Shut up," she cut him off, and tossed a rag at him. "Go make yourself useful."

"Yes, ma'am," he told her with an almost triumphant laugh.

"SG?" Gabriel asked, and Gabby rolled her eyes with amusement. 

"Samantha Gabrielle," she told him, and watched his eyes widen momentarily with amusement. "Gabby," she offered the moniker, and found herself entranced by his smile. "So my dad was holding onto papers for you?" she asked curiously. 

"For a friend of mine," Gabriel told her, and she frowned. "Paladin," he said, and Gabby's eyes widened as she nodded.

"Dad's friend from L.A.," she told him with a nod. "I only met him once when I was little, but Dad always spoke highly of him." 

Gabby studied Gabriel quietly for a few moments, intrigued by his presence and appearance. If she had to guess his age, she would say he was somewhere between twenty-eight and thirty-two. He was well dressed, but relaxed, reminding her more of a cowboy, or even a man who might work on the sea. He was polite and confident, definitely well educated, but also not afraid to get his hands dirty. His sincerity and honesty were displayed in the way he met her gaze when either of them spoke, and the steady tones of his voice. He put her at ease effortlessly, a feat she would have once said was impossible. 

She watched him look around curiously, his eyes scanning over the bottles on the shelves behind her, and she smiled. He was good with people, but he didn't have much in the way of social skills, his habit of falling silent telling her he didn't get to spend very much time interacting with others. His presence could make people feel safe, comfortable, and he was easy to talk to, but what struck her the most were the shadows behind his eyes. There was a story there, and both the profiler and the woman in her were curious to know what it was.

"So what's your poison?" Gabby asked, her teasing tone curious.

"Sorry?" Gabriel asked in response, and met her gaze when she laughed.

"Alcohol," she clarified.

"Oh," he said, his eyes widening. "Oh! I, uh . . . I've never had any, actually," he said with a thoughtful pout, and she smiled as she crossed her arms and tipped her head.

"Really?" Gabby asked with curious amusement. "Are you opposed to it?" she asked, and watched him shake his head. "Religious, or personal beliefs that keep you dry?"

"No," Gabriel replied with a chuckle. "Nothing like that. I just never really got around to it, I guess." He shook his head as he stood from the barstool. "Anyway, you, uh. You said you were closed. I should - "

"Sit down," she finished for him with a smile. "We may be closed, but I'm the owner." Gabby paused, her smile falling away for a moment before she pushed the harshness of reality away. "I guess I really am the owner now," she said, and met his gaze as she reached for a lowball glass. "You strike me as the dark beer type. Something with substance. A little dryer, or a little sweeter," she said, and pulled a two-inch pour of Newcastle Brown Ale. "Try that," she said, and slid the cup toward him.

Gabriel lifted the glass, a curious grin twisting his lips as he sniffed at the foamy liquid before taking a sip. He nodded to her as he took another sip, and finished the glass. She smiled when he passed the empty glass back to her, and she turned around to press it upside down over the pressurized cup wash. Turning back around, she looked at him before glancing at the beers on tap. Her lips twisted to the side as she reached for the handle with the skull on it, and laughed softly at his expression.

"It's a local brew from Ellensburg," she told him as she pulled the sample of the dark beer, and slid the glass toward him. "It's called Irish Death, and is a personal favorite."

"It's a little sweeter than the other one, thicker," he commented as he sipped it. "I like both."

"There's hope for you yet, Cowboy," she told him, and smiled at the sound of his rich warm laughter. "Ok, next up," she said as she poured him another dark beer. "Guinness Stout. As dark as they come, a little thinner in texture than the Irish Death, but a little closer in taste to the Newcastle."

Gabriel hummed as he considered the third sample, and grinned as he set the empty glass aside. He nodded as he told her the Newcastle was his favorite, with the Guinness being a close second. There was one more she wanted him to try, a beer her father had specifically imported through a contact he'd met years back during a case he shared with Interpol. Gabriel's surprise at the label was matched by his amusement, and he reached for the bottle before she opened it.

"Hobgoblin?" he read the name with a laugh, and she smiled.

"It's actually pretty good," Gabby told him with a chuckle. "One of my favorites," she said, and laughed as she looked up at the glasses rack above her. "My senior year of high school," she began, and shook her head as she met his gaze. "Dominik Pluchard. He was one of the most attractive boys of the class, and he was . . . oh, he knew how to talk to anyone to get what he wanted. I don't even remember why I wanted to date him now, but I did everything I could to get his attention. The one and only date we did go on, he just left me there at this bonfire, and took off with another girl. Oh, I was mad. Dad found me the next morning with a case of Hobgoblin next to me, and four bottles empty."

"That doesn't sound like a good thing," Gabriel commented, and Gabby laughed.

"Oh, it wasn't," she said as she laughed at the memory. "Daddy was not impressed. Especially considering I was only seventeen at the time," she told him with a chuckle. "He could have yelled, or grounded me, or any number of things. But what he did, was take me down to the shooting range and make me run through the same firearms qualifications test they give the cops. Ten times in a row, mind you," she told him and took in a deep breath as she shook her head in disbelief at the memory. "I thought the hangover was bad enough, but combine a hangover with the sound of gunfire and having to evaluate your surroundings as quickly as you do in that course, and that day was hell. I'll tell you what though, I never drank like that again," she told him as she laughed. "Don't get me wrong, I can still drink most people under the table, but the blackout and drink until you pass out and wake up feeling like an elephant sat on your head drunk, that I don't do anymore. Once was definitely enough."

Gabriel chuckled. "I can imagine," he said with a smile. "Did you become a cop, too?" he asked her, and she smiled as she looked back at the framed picture of her father, uncle, and grandfather behind her. 

"FBI, actually," she told him, and watched his eyes widen with surprise. "What about you?" she asked as she studied him. "You don't strike me as law enforcement."

"I'm not," he admitted, and accepted the pint of Newcastle from her with a nod as she poured the rest of the Hobgoblin into a glass for herself. "I'm . . . " He sighed as he fell silent, and glanced down at the counter before meeting her eyes once more. "I'm a counselor, or I have been. Trauma and guidance counseling for children," he told her. "The information your dad has been holding onto, it's a foothold."

"You're changing careers," she said with authority as she studied him. 

Gabriel nodded slowly. "I'm tired of being behind this. I want to get in front of it. I'm trying to take what I know, and the experience I have, and put a stop to it all."

"You're trying to make the change from counselor to investigator?" she asked, her brows high on her forehead.

"Yeah," Gabriel told her. "Did your dad ever tell you what he was holding onto?" he asked her, and Gabby shook her head. "It's the copy of a case file, notes, and all information gathered pertaining to a kidnapping from almost twenty years ago. There was evidence that the case was bigger than just one child, but there was nothing concrete. That case held some kind of key, though. I don't know what, yet, but it's a starting point."

"Human trafficking?" she asked him, and Gabriel nodded.

"To say the least," he told her, and sighed heavily. "The kidnappers were trying to reprogram the child, but I don't know for what. I don't know how deep it goes," he told her, and looked down at his beer. "No child should ever have to go through what they've been through."

"Maybe I can help," she offered, needing the distraction of a case to keep her grief from swallowing her whole.

"Maybe," he agreed with a slow nod, and she smiled. 

She blushed when she realized she'd been caught staring, and smiled at his warm chuckle. The practical side of her, the FBI profiler, told her to proceed with caution. But the side of her that was Gabby Foggerty, the woman? That side of her was telling her, quite loudly, not to let this man leave her just yet. He felt familiar, safe, but more than that, was the feeling that she needed him, that without him she would be lost. Biting her lip as she smiled to herself, Gabby looked up to meet his gaze.

"Gabriel, are you hungry?" she asked, and watched as a smile blossomed across his face, the effect leaving her breathless.

He nodded as he held her gaze. "I'm new in town," he confessed. "I don't really know any good places to go."

Her lips parted as she breathed in, and told herself not to read too much into his words. "Let me show you around," she offered, trying her best to keep her emotions in check.

"I could use a little guidance," he told her with an honest, if not somewhat sad, smile. "I'm a bit lost."

"Well, then it's a good thing you found me," she told him sincerely.

"Either you and the pretty boy get on up outta here," Manny said, startling them both, as he appeared from the back room. "Or I'm going to put both of you to work," he told them, the thickness of his New Orleans accent coloring his words.

Gabby laughed as she scurried around the bar, and nodded to the door. "Escape while you can, Gabriel," she told him with a laugh. 

"You're running away?" Gabriel teased her, slipping off his stool, and she laughed as she grabbed her bag and coat.

"Hell yes, I'm running away. That man's a slave driver," she called back as she met Manny's gaze. 

"G'on y'all," Manny called after them with a laugh. "Get!"

_Thank you_ , Gabby mouthed, and smiled when Manny nodded in return as he winked at her. She laughed at the way her heart pounded furiously in her chest, and scoffed at the way she felt like a giddy teenager. Whoever this man was, he had made her laugh more in the past hour than she had in the past few months. She didn't know what would happen between them, and maybe nothing would, but she couldn't help the thought that somehow her father had sent him to her. 

"Thank you, Daddy," Gabby whispered her gratitude as she followed Gabriel out of the bar.

**~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~**

There were some things he wasn't sure he would ever get used to. The ease with which humans welcomed him in, was one of them. Gabriel sat down on the side of the bed with a quiet sigh and looked around the room. Gabby was a profiler, he thought with the barest hint of a grin. She worked day in and day out hunting some of the worst people imaginable, at least that was how she described the job. She didn't know him, not really, but when he had asked her to point him in the direction of a hotel, she had offered him the guest room in her father's house instead. 

Looking up at the knock on the door, he bid her to enter, and met her gaze when she leaned against the doorframe. She looked softer, he thought, as he studied her. Gone was the dark suit with the defined lines, in its place was a pair of faded blue jeans and a soft heather grey sweater, the color matching her eyes. Her redwood brown hair was still free around her shoulders, but it fell in soft waves that begged to be touched. If she wore makeup, he couldn't tell. Her skin was soft, a dusting of pink decorating her cheeks before she ducked her head, and he realized he was staring. 

"Sorry," he apologized as he glanced away, and smiled when she responded with a breathy laugh, her bottom lip caught between her teeth.

"It's ok," she pardoned him, and met his gaze with a smile. "I just wanted to check on you. There's food and drink in the fridge downstairs. Feel free to help yourself to any of it," she told him.

"Headed to bed?" Gabriel asked curiously, and watched her brow quirk with a momentary frown.

"I don't really sleep that much anymore," she told him, closing her eyes as her brows lifted and fell in a shrug. "Occupational hazard, I guess." She paused for a moment, and looked down at the floor before meeting his gaze. "I found the stuff my dad was holding for you. I don't know how much help it's going to be though," she told him. "It's all written in some kind of code."

"It was a pretty sensitive case," Gabriel said with a slow nod. "I'm not surprised he encrypted it." He met her gaze with concern, and watched as she seemed to pull into herself. "What's wrong?"

"A couple of months ago," she began, and drew in a sharp breath. "Dad called me down at work. I thought he was looking for my team to consult with his department, but it was just me he wanted to talk to. He had a case that didn't make much sense. The prints on a murder weapon had turned up in the database belonging to a missing child from almost a decade ago, but the information in the case file said that a badly decomposed body had turned up and been identified as the missing child's. He asked me what I thought about it. I told him to look back at the identification. Something there didn't make sense."

"Did he ever tell you what he found?" Gabriel asked her, and motioned for her to have a seat next to him on the bed.

"No," Gabby said, shaking her head as she padded across the hardwood floor in socked feet to sit next to him. "The last time we spoke, he told me he was getting close to something. He said the identification was made by the coroner, but that the coroner listed wasn't anywhere in the county records for that year, and had, in fact, retired three years previous. He kept telling me that there were ghosts in the department. I thought he meant 'ghosts in the machine', you know that old saying. I thought the computer records were botched up, but now I'm not so sure." She paused as she turned to look at Gabriel, her brow furrowed as she met his gaze. "Why are you so easy to talk to? I feel like I can talk to you about anything. I want to tell you everything. I don't do that with anyone else."

Gabriel laughed softly and shook his head. "It's a gift, I guess," he said with a shrug. "I think your dad was looking into the same thing my friend was. Gabby, be careful," Gabriel warned her, meeting her gaze with concern. "Whoever's behind this, they've got no problem killing cops."

He watched her brow furrow as the pain of her loss was written across her face. "Was my dad's death a hit?" she asked him, and Gabriel shook his head slowly.

"I don't know," he told her honestly. "I wouldn't doubt it," he told her softly. "But I have no evidence to prove that it was."

Gabriel wrapped his arms around Gabby, holding her close when she began to cry. She was a strong woman, she had to be to face down what she did day after day. He tipped his head, resting his cheek against her hair as he held her. The house had been quiet when she'd brought him there. Pictures had been on the walls, and on the mantel in the living room, but there had been no sounds, or evidence of anyone else staying there, and he hated the thought that she was alone.

He looked down when she moved against him, his lips tipping up to one side in a fleeting grin as he smoothed away her tears with the pad of his thumb. Her eyes grew darker, hooded, as she looked up at him, and Gabriel watched her curiously. She pressed against him until he was lying back on the pillows, her fingertips tracing the line of his jaw as she rose over him. He could feel his heart pick up speed as energy spiraled through him, his muscles tightening and tingling as her breath fanned across his skin.

"Gabby?" he called to her softly, uncertain of the new sensations she was creating in him, only to fall silent when she pressed her lips against his.

Gabriel groaned as he responded to her, kissing her in return as she rose over him. Heat and energy unlike anything he'd ever known spiraled through him. He felt like he was falling, the same jolt of breathless pleasure he got from diving off of a high perch before spreading his wings. He gasped against her mouth when she straddled his hips, rocking herself against him, and he jerked up against her as instinct commanded him to seek her out. 

His hands moved from where he had gripped her hips, up to tangle in her hair as he pulled her closer. She whimpered against him, the sound desperate and aching. Kissing her once, twice, he pulled back from the kiss and studied her gaze. Pouting gently at the sight of her blush, he wrapped his arms around her before she could run away, stilling her escape. 

"I - I'm sorry, I shouldn't have," she stumbled over her apology, embarrassed by her own actions, as she tried to retreat.

"Stay with me," he offered, as he tucked her hair behind her ear, studying the confusion in her gaze. 

"But you . . . ?" She paused, her lip caught between her teeth as she stared at him silently, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.

"Gabby, you're grieving," Gabriel told her softly, and sighed as he tipped his head up to kiss her brow. "The last thing I want to do is take advantage of you, regardless of whether you initiated this, or not."

"You don't - you," she stumbled over her words as the tears in her eyes slipped down to fall on the shirt he wore. "You're a good man, Gabriel," she told him with a breathy laugh, and moved to lie next to him.

"I don't know about all that," he teased her gently, wrapping his arm around her back and petting her hair when she pillowed her head on his shoulder. "Go to sleep, Gabby," he bid her softly. "I'll be here."

Gabriel played with the ends of her hair as he held her, and felt her grow heavier against his side as she relaxed into sleep. She whimpered softly, snuggling closer to him, and he released an amused breath. He turned his head to look down at her, and pressed a kiss to her hair. He didn't have the heart to tell her that he didn't quite know what to do when it came to sex, or making love. He was an angel, he was as old as time itself, but he hadn't ever had sex before. 

An immortal virgin, he thought to himself, and chuckled quietly. He didn't regret stopping her advances though. He had meant what he'd said. She was grieving. Regardless of who initiated it, if he had given in and had sex with her, he would still feel as though he'd taken advantage of her. Reaching down for the blanket at the end of the bed when she shivered, he covered them both with the cloth, and turned off the lamp.

**~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~**

Manny looked over at the man standing behind the bar with a silent chuckle. He didn't know why Gabriel was here in the bar working beside him. Busy as it was, he had always been able to hold the place down by himself. But then again, he thought as he studied the man, maybe Gabriel needed the distraction. Gabby had told him that the information her father had been holding onto was encrypted, and it seemed to be a personal encryption, since the decryption software on her computer hadn't been able to translate the few pages she'd scanned in. 

He had to give Gabriel credit though. The man learned quickly, and within only the short span of one hour, he had learned how to make any cocktail they could possibly serve. It was a bit amusing to him that Gabriel didn't drink on his own. In fact, Manny thought, the only times he'd seen Gabriel with a drink, and only a beer, had been when he was drinking with Gabby. Maybe there was something there after all. 

"Have you heard from Gabby?" Manny asked Gabriel as he stepped away from the kitchen doors.

"No, not yet," Gabriel replied, and met his gaze with confusion. "I have no idea what this table wants," he admitted, and Manny chuckled as he stepped forward.

"Oh, that," he said as he looked down at the drink order. "That's a local Boston term, you don't get it much on this coast. It's an Irish Trashcan," he told Gabriel, and watched the man nod. "You know, you don't actually have to be here," he said casually. "Not that I mind the help."

"Gabby was pretty unsettled when she left this morning," Gabriel told him. "She said she would meet me here after, and I figured it'd be best to already be here."

"She and her old man were really close," he said with a slow nod. "I can't imagine she's taking this as well as she wants everyone to think she is."

Gabriel shook his head, but remained silent, and Manny understood. He had offered the opening in case Gabriel wanted to talk, but to know that he kept Gabby's confidence instead was a source of comfort to him. She needed someone good in her life, Manny thought. Something to balance out all the bad she had to deal with. He wasn't sure if there was anything between them, or not, but he had seen the way they both looked at each other when they thought no one was watching. 

He tapped Gabriel on the shoulder with the back of his hand, and nodded toward the front door. Two more patrons had come in, but it was the woman behind them who walked in that they were both interested in. To anyone else, Gabby looked calm, if not a bit angry. To the two men who knew her, she looked shaken. Her jaw was clenched, her eyes wider than normal, and instead of being flushed, her face was pale.

"Go," Manny said, and nodded to Gabby. "I've got this. Jenna will be in soon."

"Ok," Gabriel said with a nod, and wiped his hands on the bar towel. 

Gabriel slipped around the bar quietly as he headed toward Gabby. She hadn't moved farther into the bar than the front door, standing to the right of the entrance. Her eyes moved around the room, settling on the kitchen and stockroom doors for fifteen seconds at a time before moving away. He frowned as he watched her look at each person in the bar. Who was she looking for, he wondered, as he stepped closer to her. 

"Hey," he greeted her, and frowned when her eyes snapped to him before moving away to scan the crowd again. "Looking for someone?" he asked her, and watched as she took in a deep breath before shaking her head. "Gabby?" he called her attention when she remained quiet, her silence worrying him. "Come on," he said, and guided her toward the door. "Let's get out of here."

He looked down when she gripped his hand, her hold tight and desperate. Something had happened, something more than the paperwork following her father's death that she had gone to deal with. Her grip remained tight as he walked with her toward her car. He frowned in confusion when she shook her head and led him away from the vehicle. She stopped him, pushed him against the wall of a building, and he frowned as she grew closer.

"Gabby?"

"Shut up," she cut him off, her voice breathless and curt as she pressed up against him. 

To anyone behind her, he thought, it might look like they were two people kissing, but he knew different. Her hands weren't caressing him, she was checking his pockets, and for the life of him he had no idea why. He watched her pull back, his cell phone in her hands, and frowned as she took it apart. She pried the back off, taking out the battery, the SIM card, and then took out a memory card that he hadn't known was there.

"What is that?" he asked her, and was met with a sharp glare. "Gabby, whatever you think this is, it isn't."

She glared at him until he remained silent, and he shook his head as he tried to figure out where the trust she had for him had gone. He had already shown her that he didn't know enough about technology to be dangerous with it, so why did she seem to be so mad at him, he wondered. He watched her pull her wallet out of her jacket pocket, and take a book of stamps out from inside. She put the microSD card in the middle of one stamp, and placed another stamp on top, securing the chip without damaging it.

"Who set the phone up for you?" she asked him, her tone and stance more relaxed. "That wasn't a memory card, Gabriel," she said, holding the stamp covered chip between her fingers. "It's a bug. Someone was listening to everything happening around you through the phone, and cloning the phone to get the texts you've sent. Who set the phone up?"

"The guy at the store," he told her, still confused about everything. "Gabby?"

"Did you go to that store based on a recommendation, or was it a matter of convenience?" she asked him, pushing him for answers.

"Karina recommended the store," he told her, shaking his head in confusion. "She told me to ask for Mark, said he'd get me set up."

"Karina?" she asked him, and he fell silent in the face of her confusion. 

"The girl who delivers the fruit," he said, and watched as Gabby's eyes widened and she shook her head.

"No one delivers the fruit, Gabriel," she told him calmly. "Manny picks it up each day from Pike's Place. When did she come?"

"Last Tuesday morning, just after . . . " He paused as he realized what had happened. "She came in maybe five minutes after Manny left. She had a wooden crate of fruit, but there was a lid on it, and I didn't look inside."

"Did she stay around to put the fruit away, or did you give it to Manny?" she asked, and Gabriel thought back.

"I assumed she had," he said as he glanced to the side, his eyes narrowed as he thought about that day. "She took the crate into the back room, and then behind the bar."

"Did she take the crate with her when she left?" Gabby asked, and he nodded. "We're going to go back in," she told him, and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "I want you to show me where she went," she said, and he nodded.

"Gabby, I -"

"You didn't know," she said gently, interrupting his apology. "Gabriel, I wouldn't even have know to look at your phone, or ask, had it not been for Ace - Alicia Carter, the technical analyst my team works with. She was trying to get in touch with me, trying to locate me, and said that my phone had two locations. That means someone cloned it, after I left Quantico, and if they cloned mine . . ." she said, leaving her statement unfinished.

"Then they cloned mine as well," he finished for her, and she nodded. 

"I asked her to check both your phone and Manny's," she told him. "He's been bugged as well. I asked her if she could see how far back it's been cloned, and so far, it's only been five days."

"Since I got my phone," he said, and shook his head. "Karina, the store, the phone, Mark, it was all a set up?" he asked her as he met her gaze.

"We have to figure out what happened last week. It had to be sometime between Friday and Monday of last week since the bugs were set on Tuesday," she told him, moving to pace in front of him as she thought.

"Gabby," Gabriel called to her, stopping her as he moved to stand in front of her. "Last Saturday you went into the bank on Bainbridge Island and emptied your father's safety deposit box," he reminded her, and watched as she met his gaze. 

"They had to have had that bank under surveillance since I landed at Sea-Tac," she said with a thoughtful nod. "That takes time, resources, people," she said as she met his gaze. "Unless they're piggy backing on local CCTV cameras, and using an algorithm to look for certain parameters."

"What are you doing?" he asked when she took a small flip phone out of her pocket and dialed a number.

"Calling Ace," she told him. "If anyone can help us, she can."

"You've reached Alicia Carter at the FBI's Office of Supreme Genius, speak and be heard," a voice answered, the call on speaker, and Gabriel chuckled as he shook his head.

"Hey Ace, it's me," Gabby said, and smiled at the excited gasp followed in short order by clapping. 

"I've missed you, baby-cakes!" Alicia returned, and Gabriel frowned in amusement at the sounds he heard in the background of the call.

"I think I like her," Gabriel told Gabby, looking up at her over the phone she held between them.

"Mmm," Alicia purred, and Gabriel chuckled. "Gabby who belongs to that delicious voice?"

"You'd better introduce yourself," Gabby told Gabriel, and he chuckled at her wide teasing smile. 

"I'm Gabriel," he said, and heard the appreciative hum from the woman on the phone.

"Really?" she purred. "Gabby, you simply must introduce us. You _are_ bringing him home with you, aren't you?" she asked, and Gabriel laughed.

"I'll see what I can do, Ace," Gabby told her with a laugh. "Hey, I need your help. Someone's been following us, running surveillance. I found the bugs they put in my phone and Gabriel's. I haven't been able to check Manny's yet. They've bugged the bar, and I think they may have hacked the CCTV on Bainbridge Island, and the ferry to it. These aren't your normal bugs, either, Ace. It's high tech and sophisticated. I need to know who's watching, and if you can back hack it, and find out why, there's a pound of smoked salt chocolate covered caramels from Fran's in it for ya." 

"Now _that_ is incentive," Alicia said with a teasing purr. "I'll see what I can find, and hit ya back," she said.

"Work me a little magic, Ace," Gabby returned, and closed her phone when the call disconnected. 

Gabriel watched her with a smile as she tucked the phone back into her pocket, and chuckled when she blushed at the attention. He had seen the business side of her, the tough as nails agent, the quirky friend she became with Manny, but the side he loved the most was the one she showed him now. The soft side, the side she only showed when they were alone. The way she blushed when he smiled at her, and tucked her hair behind her ear, even when he was certain she wished for some kind of distance, endeared her to him.

"She was fun," he said, and watched Gabby's smile widen as she laughed.

"Ace is unique," she said with a nod. "But she's the best there is."

"She doesn't seem to be standard issue," he told Gabby, and listened to her laugh.

"Oh, she's definitely not," Gabby agreed. "Maybe someday I'll tell you her story," she said. "Come on. Let's go find their little toys."

**~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~**

Gabriel sighed as he tossed the legal pad down on the table and stood from his chair. Turning around at the sound of a soft hum, he met Gabby's soft grey eyes. She walked to him slowly, taking his outstretched hand, and he pulled her close for a hug. Four weeks he had been living with her, sharing her house and her life. There were even times he had worked by her side down at the bar, making food, or mixing drinks. Each day he felt closer to her, and each day the burn he felt when he was in her presence grew stronger. 

"That bad?" Gabby asked, and he frowned in question as he looked down to meet her gaze. "The code?" she asked, and nodded to the files and papers strewn across the table. "I'm guessing you're not making any headway with it?"

"Not really, no," he confessed with a sigh. 

"Ace was able to back track everything, especially after I sent her all the bugs we found," she told him with a sigh. "It's all run through a private securities firm, MiraTech. She doesn't know much more than that right now."

"Have you thought more about going back to work?" he asked her, releasing her when she pulled away. "Gabby, you know your dad wouldn't want you quitting on his account," he reminded her gently. "And don't try to tell me you're not wanting to go back. I see the way you look at that file. If it wasn't written in code you'd be all over it looking for leads and suspects. And I can see how much you want to dig further into what Ace has found."

"I do want to go back," she told him, and sighed heavily as she stood behind the chair he had vacated, her hands on the high back.

"Then why haven't you?" he asked her softly.

She turned to him slowly, her eyes meeting his, and Gabriel found himself breathless under the weight of her stare. His lips parted as he watched her walk toward him, and he closed his eyes as she touched him, the brush of her fingertips branding him. He opened his eyes, gasping when she touched the curve of his jaw, and leaned into her touch when she cupped his cheek in her palm. She turned his head down to her as she stood up on her toes, and he groaned when she kissed him.

The slow burn inside him ignited, each nerve ending standing on fire as he wrapped his arms around her to pull her closer. She whimpered as he took control of the kiss, responding to him as he drew his tongue across the seam of her lips. He couldn't contain the growl that built low in his chest as he lifted her up, her legs wrapping around his waist, and stepped over to the table. She laughed against his mouth when he sat her down on the table, and fell against her, tripping on a fallen paper beneath his foot. 

"I don't think you're supposed to laugh when we do that," he teased her, and dropped his head to her shoulder as he took in a deep breath. "Gabby, I - "

"Take me to bed, Gabriel," she interrupted him softly, meeting his gaze with a smile. "I want you," she confessed, holding his gaze as she slid her hands beneath the cream knit sweater he wore. "I _need_ you, Gabriel," she said, and he gasped at the feel of her fingertips trailing over his stomach, tracing the contours of his ribs.

He groaned at her words, and hissed when she brushed her fingers on the skin on his back between his shoulder blades. He growled her name as he dragged her to him, lifting her against him as he claimed her mouth in a heated kiss. She wrapped her legs around his waist, holding onto him as though she were afraid to let go, and fisted her hands in his hair as he carried her to the stairs. He stopped more than once on the way up, holding himself still in an effort to maintain control over his passion.

The muscles in his back were spasming, overwrought nerves crying out for her touch, but he knew he had to keep control of them. If he didn't, if he gave in to all the sensations she was creating within him, his wings would flare out to their full extension. He would really have some explaining to do if that happened, he thought and chuckled as he carried her to his bed. She shrieked with laughter when his attempt to kneel gracefully was thwarted by the rug, and he fell on top of her on the bed. 

"I'm supposed to be more coordinated than this," he told her by way of apology, and smiled when she laughed.

"I think it makes it perfect," she told him softly, as she pulled him down for a kiss. 

Gabriel kissed her gently, slowly, as he slid his hand up along her side. He pulled back when he felt her hand on his shoulder, her touch gently easing him away. Closing his eyes when she tipped his head down, he smiled at the way she kissed his brow.

"Mr. Darcy," she teased him with the name of her favorite Jane Austin character, and he chuckled. "You live with a profiler, remember?" she told him, and he nodded with a confused frown. "I know you're as attracted to me as I am to you, but you hesitate. I've seen the way you look at me when you think I'm not paying attention, the times you've reached for me, but pulled back," she told him as she framed his face in her hands, and ran her fingers through the hair at his temples. "You're afraid you're going to do something wrong, or that maybe you'll hurt me, which tells me that not only has it been a long time for you, but there's someone still in here," she said, and pressed her hand above his heart. "Who was she?" she asked him softly.

Gabriel sighed softly as he closed his eyes and ducked his head. Part of him was afraid to speak of her, to tell her story. It would make her life, and his loss of her that much more real. He knew that he had buried the memories without truly dealing with them, and wasn't sure what to do now that they were being drawn out.

"She was the first human - person," he corrected himself, "that I ever let in. We were never intimate," he said, his voice trailing off as he let himself think back to a time long past.

"There are different forms of intimacy," Gabby told him, and lifted up to kiss the underside of his jaw. "Physical intimacy is just one side. There are those we talk to, those who we are emotionally, even mentally intimate with. For a woman," she told him, and pressed the tips of her middle and ring finger against his temple. "Intimacy is here, in the mind. So many people think that women have affairs because the sex isn't as good anymore. Truth is, most women can go for years without sex, and still be happy. But if there is no mental connection, if you can't intrigue our minds, or inspire our hearts, than the intimacy is gone."

He nodded slowly, his eyes closing as he tried not to let the memories fill his mind. For centuries, he had mastered the art of thinking about her in concept only, without ever letting the memories rise. But here, in the arms of the woman who had become his lifeline, he found himself thinking about her once more. There was a very real fear that Gabby would end up as Sarah had, that he would lose her for one reason, or another. To willingly lay with her, to love her as a man loved a woman, he feared would only put her in harm's way.

"What was her name?" Gabby asked, and Gabriel took in an unsteady breath.

"Sarah," he told her softly, his voice choked. "She used to sing. She loved to sing, even when she had no words to go with her song. It was like listening to the wind, everything was just . . . "

He released an amused breath when Gabby kissed him chastely. "What happened to her?" she asked softly, and Gabriel closed his eyes when she combed her fingers through his hair.

He closed his eyes as the memories of her last moments washed over him. "She died. She uh . . . One day, she just . . . She had been corrupted, made to believe that her brother was evil. She killed him, and then she killed herself. Sometimes it feels like it was a lifetime ago, and sometimes it feels like it was yesterday," he said, and blinked in surprise when he felt Gabby smooth her thumb over his cheek. "I didn't mean to - "

"Shh," Gabby quieted him, brushing away his tears. "There's nothing wrong with crying for someone you've lost," she told him, and kissed his trembling lips. "You never let yourself grieve for her, did you?" she asked, and he shook his head.

"You're too damn perceptive," he told her, and smiled sadly when she chuckled.

"It's what they pay me for," she teased him softly. 

"I buried myself in my work," he told her. It wasn't exactly a lie, but she didn't need to know that his work was of an angelic nature, he reasoned. "At first, I just wanted something to distract me. I'd never felt anything like that before. It was . . . anger, and guilt, and it felt like there was nothing left but this black hole in the center of my chest."

"Grief is a powerful thing," she said, and he nodded silently.

"After awhile," he said, and moved them both to lie back on the pillows, as he tucked her against his side. "I found I could think about her, picture her face, hear the tone of her song, but if I didn't let the memories come with that then I was okay."

"Concept art," she told him, and he frowned in confusion as he turned his head to look at her. "That's what I, and a few others I work with, call it. When you let yourself remember something, but only in the guise of a picture, or a sound, we call it concept art. The idea of a thing, is not the thing itself. Like a picture of an explosion, is not actually an explosion. It's just the picture of it, and a picture can't hurt you." She took in a slow breath as she turned, and pressed her hands beneath her on the bed, bracing herself up on her elbows as she looked down at him. "The idea of grief can't hurt you, not like the thing that makes you grieve hurts you."

Lifting his hand beneath the curtain of her hair, he cupped her jaw in his hand and drew her down for a slow kiss. Her lips moved against his, her desire for him fanning the smoldering embers of his own hunger. She pulled back, kissing him chastely a few times before brushing the backs of her bent fingers down his cheek. The expression on his face must have given away his thoughts, and he watched as she offered him a lopsided grin.

"Do me a favor," she said, and he frowned curiously. "Close your eyes," she bid of him. "Close your eyes, and let me have my wicked way with you," she told him, her feather grey eyes darkened to a storm cloud silver.

"Your wicked way, huh?" he asked, teasing her as he studied her face, memorizing how she looked in that moment.

"Mmhmm," she hummed her agreement. "Tonight, I'm going to show you what it's like to touch the stars."

**~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~**

Gabby woke slowly, the feel of something heavy and warm teasing her awake, as something soft tickled her cheek. She groaned softly, feeling deliciously sore in all the right places, and opened her eyes. Her eyes widened as she stilled, her mind slowing to a crawl as she processed what she was seeing, and came to terms with what couldn't possibly be. Gabriel was lying on his side next to her, both of them naked. The blankets had been thrown off the bed during their activities of the night before, but he had kept her warm.

"Feathers," she whispered, a breathy chuckle sounding from her as she ran her fingers gently over the golden red feathers. "He has wings," she whispered, and closed her eyes. 

No last name, a past he only talked about in generalizations without giving her any specific time or location details, impossible strength and unyielding gentleness. He was kind and compassionate, he made her feel safe in seconds, and was easy to talk to. The things that she had simply tried to brush aside before all came together as she studied the giant wing lying over her naked body like a blanket. 

"My angel," she whispered, and rolled toward him, lying on her side as she tucked herself against his chest. 

She watched as he took in a deep breath, the wing lying over her pulling back behind him to fold against his back, before fading slowly and becoming unseen. Kissing his brow as he woke slowly, she ran her fingers through his mussed hair. She wasn't devoutly religious, believing more in the idea of something greater, than any actual religion or deity. She may not believe in God, she thought as she watched Gabriel's eyes flutter open slowly, but she believed in the man - angel - sharing her bed.

"Hey," he greeted her drowsily, and Gabby smiled.

"Hey," she returned, and leaned close to kiss his pouting lips.

"Have you been awake long?" he asked softly, and she chuckled at how adorably drowsy he was.

"Not too long," she said, smiling as she kissed him. 

Her gaze softened as she studied him, wondering how it was possible that this beautiful man had come to be with her. The memory of his wings couldn't be forgotten, but she wouldn't speak to him of it. That he was an angel, a divine being, was a secret he'd either kept because he thought she wouldn't believe him, or because he had to keep it. Much like her work in the FBI, she could understand how some truths were kept confidential and protected because to reveal them would have unknown and disastrous consequences. After all, hadn't she seen enough of humanity's evil to know exactly what would happen if angels were revealed to exist? 

"You're beautiful," she whispered to him as she trailed her fingertips over his cheek.

"Isn't that my line?" he teased her in return as he braced himself up on his hands, and moved over her. "I want to keep you in bed all day," he confessed softly.

Her smile grew slowly until it was so wide it hurt, and she laughed as she pulled him down on top of her. She kissed him as she spread her legs, and gasped at the feel of him against her when she hooked her thigh over his hip. He growled low, the sound ricocheting through her as sparks of arousal ignited every nerve ending. Her mouth fell open as she tipped her head back on the pillow and rocked her hips up against his. She could feel him hardening against her as he slipped his hand down between their bodies to touch her where she needed him most. 

"You're like fire," he whispered to her, and she whimpered as he slipped his finger inside of her. "So alive you burn," he spoke, his breath fanning against her skin as he dipped his head down to kiss her collarbone. "Dancing like a flame."

"Gabriel," she gasped, writhing beneath him.

She whimpered, calling his name again and again as he took her nipple into his mouth and teased her with his hand. He brought her to the brink of orgasm before he eased her down from the precipice. She met his smile with one of her own as she reached for him, watching with delight as his eyes flashed a bright white for just a fraction of a second when she wrapped her hand around his length. She stroked him slowly, squeezed him gently, and watched as he threw his head back with a loud hiss as she teased him. He may be a celestial being, she thought with a touch of humor, but he was still a man.

"I wonder," she breathed out softly, her hand on his hip trailing up his back.

She kissed the underside of his chin when he groaned and clenched his jaw. Trailing her fingertips up between his shoulder blades, she felt along his back, and smiled when she felt a joint that a human wouldn't have. He drew in a sharp gasp, his eyes flaring wide before he closed them tightly in a mix of pleasure and pain. He pulsed in her hand, his hardness twitching as his hips bucked towards her, and she knew then that the only reason he was in pain was because he was holding himself back.

"Don't hide from me," she whispered, and kissed the edge of his jaw beneath the curve of his ear. "Let go," she encouraged him, nipping at his ear. 

Gabriel roared her name as she tightened her grip on him, and carefully drug her nails down the wing joint she could feel. A sound broke around them, and she looked up over him as she watched his wings unfurl, the feathered appendages snapping out to their full spread. She saw the flash of white behind his closed eyes, felt him soften slightly in her hand as he came, his orgasm too powerful to control. He was panting as he came back to himself, and framed her face in his hands as he stared at her with wide-eyed wonder tinged with an edge of fear.

"How did you know?" he asked her, and Gabby laughed softly.

"This morning when I woke up, your wing was covering me like a blanket," she told him, and laughed when he dropped his head to her chest with a groan. "I watched it fold back and disappear as you woke up."

"You're not afraid?" he asked her as he met her gaze once more.

"Of you?" she asked, and he nodded, his brow furrowed with concern. "How could I ever be afraid of you? Angel, or not, I'm a profiler. It's my job to be able to read people within only a few moments of meeting them. You are good man, Gabriel, but something tells me you don't quite believe that."

Gabriel sighed and shook his head as he looked away from her. "You know we were doing something," he told her as he met her gaze once more.

"Don't deflect," she teased him, smoothing her fingers against his cheek. "Talk to me," she encouraged him, and pushed gently against his shoulders. "Come on," she said, and took his hand as she stood from the bed.

She led him down the hall to the bathroom, and used a hand towel to clean her stomach as she began to draw a bath. She turned back to him, her eyes softening as she smiled at him. He hadn't hidden his wings yet, the feathers of gold-red and white-gold glinting in the light like so many jewels. She stepped close to him as she dropped the towel on the counter, reaching for him as he wrapped his arms and wings around her in a twin embrace. 

"So warm," she mused softly as she snuggled against his chest, and nuzzled her cheek against his shoulder. 

"You accept me so easily," he whispered to her with wonder, smiling down at her when she reached up to touch his wing. 

"There may come a day sometime in the future when I think back to these moments and believe you to just be a dream," she told him honestly. "But for now, you're mine. For however long we have left."

Gabriel kissed her forehead, her eyes, and cheeks, before he tipped her chin up to kiss her lips. She whimpered against his mouth as she pressed closer, his arms tightening around her, as he deepened the kiss. Every touch, every kiss he bestowed upon her ignited a firestorm of sensations beneath her skin that burned the brightest in her heart and low in her belly. She tipped her head as he nipped at the skin behind her jaw, and traced the smooth column of her throat with his lips and tongue.

Her lips parted as she gasped, the feel of his blunt nails scraping the flesh of her bottom making her tremble with need. The growl that sounded from him aroused her even more, and she gripped his shoulders as she jumped up to wrap her legs around his waist, crying out when his erection was pressed in between the damp warm folds of her center. She threw her head back when he rocked against her, the movement bringing his tip to her entrance, and sobbed with pleasure when he thrust into her.

"Gabriel," she called his name, her trembling voice heavy with need.

Gabriel stumbled forward, catching himself on the counter behind her. He hissed as he carefully set her on the counter, angling her toward him as he rocked against her. The passion he felt was more powerful than anything he had known before, and he closed his eyes as he felt them burn. Her legs tightened around his waist as she met his thrusts with her own, their rhythm in perfect harmony. He was so close, able to feel the spasms of her muscles around him as she neared her climax, and roared when she bit down on the curve of his neck and shoulder. His orgasm was powerful, masterful, and he panted as he rested his forehead in the curve of her throat.

"Son of a - " Gabriel cut himself off mid curse, and looked to his right, as he tried to free himself, only to look down when Gabby began to laugh. "Of course you find this funny," he groused, trying to hide his amusement, and shook his head when she laughed more.

"Stop! Stop!" Gabby told him, laughing as she pushed him back far enough to hop off the counter. "Let me help," she said, giggling as she reached for the long feathers of his wing. "These things are dangerous," she teased him, as she freed the feathers he'd gotten stuck in the rings of the shower curtain, before turning off the bathwater.

She squeaked in surprise when he wrapped his wings around her, pulling her naked body back to his, and caught her excited gasp with a kiss. He could feel her smile as he kissed her, and cradled her head in his hand as he deepened their kiss. She whimpered as he ravished her, and he groaned when she fisted her hands in his hair to pull him closer. Gabriel felt dizzy with the duality of power and vulnerability that loving her inspired within him. He wanted to possess her and to be possessed by her, as energy and fire raced through his muscles. 

Every part of him was attuned to every part of her. The sounds around them disappeared, sights and scents gone, until the only thing he knew was the feel, taste, and smell of the woman in his arms. There was no need to hide himself, to restrain himself, and the power he found in his freedom was breathtaking. He hissed against her lips when she slipped her arms under his, and traced the joints of his wings with her fingertips. Growling low as he pulled her closer, he ravaged her mouth, bruising her lips as he kissed her passionately. 

He was unbearably hard in seconds, and groaned low when she broke their kiss. He closed his eyes as he panted, trying to gain control over himself before he did something that might frighten her. Her fingers trailed down his back at his side, his muscles twitching as every cell in his body cried out for her touch. She was still within the circle of his wings, her warmth soothing him as he began to calm. He wondered if she had any idea just how sensitive his wings were. For longer than he could remember, he had only felt pain from his wings, care of his brothers. But now with Gabby, she had brought him more pleasure than he thought possible. 

Gabriel jerked, hissing as his eyes snapped open, and looked down at the woman kneeling at his feet. She had nipped at his outer thigh just below his hipbone with her teeth, the bite teasing and sharp as she pulled him forcibly from his thoughts. He lowered his wings, draping them over her shoulders like a blanket as his eyes widened, only to for him to hiss and close his eyes when she wrapped her lips around him. His breath came in short pants, the air caught in his chest as she took him deeper into her mouth. The feel of her tongue tracing the underside of his penis was almost more than he could bear. 

He called her name when she increased the suction of her mouth around him, and moaned low in the back of her throat, the vibrations spiraling around him. If this was what humans felt, how in the hell did they ever get anything done, he wondered. The only thing he wanted to do was give her as much pleasure as she gave him, make her beg for his touch, for his caresses. He looked down when he felt her left hand leave his hip, and felt himself shatter apart when she buried her fingers deep in the thickness of the feathers on his wing. 

Seconds before he lost all control, he pulled her away from his erection, and fell to his knees in front of her. He moved over her, pushing her down, and cradling the back of her head as he laid her down on the smooth tiled floor. His wings framed them, hiding her from view as he wrapped his hand around her thigh and lifted her leg up over his hip. She whimpered beneath him, arching against him as he thrust into her slowly. He hissed in pleasure as she threw her head back, their eyes closed as their bodies joined. The need he had for her was demanding, all-consuming, and insatiable. 

"I want to stay like this with you forever," she whispered as she met his thrusts with her own, and he groaned at the pleasurable friction.

"That sounds perfect," he told her softly in return, kissing her as he increased his pace inside of her.

Her back arched as she neared orgasm, her body tight as a bow string. He nibbled at her skin, tracing the curve of her throat to the swell of her breast with hot teasing open mouthed kisses. She cried his name as her muscles clamped down around him, and seconds later he came inside of her, pulsing within her as he lost himself to the pleasure between them. He kissed her lips as he stared down at her, smiling at the sight of her hooded eyes and rose-kissed skin. 

She moaned when he moved away from her, and he found amusement in the way the passionate vibrant woman had become as drowsy as a kitten. He watched her smile when he knelt next to her, lifting her into the cradle of his arms, and carried her the few feet to the oversized bath tub. She sighed softly, the breath rolling from her like a purr as he stepped into the heated water and sat down slowly. He settled her between his legs, pulling her back to rest against his chest, and wrapped his arms around her.

He chuckled when she reached for his wings, and he moved them, folding his wings around them. The water soaked deep into his feathers, and he sighed as he sank lower into the bath, feeling the heat of the water soothe him. His eyes fell closed as her fingers traced over the top of his wings, and he smiled as she gently traced the muscles and joints beneath his feathers.

"She likes my wings," he teased her, keeping his eyes closed, and chuckled when she giggled softly. 

"I'm still trying to decide if you're real, or not," she teased him in return, and he cracked one eye open to meet her smiling gaze. 

"After what we just did?" he asked, arching his brow. "I'd certainly hope I'm real."

She hummed softly as she leaned back against his chest, her fingers curling over the top edge of his wing as she grew heavy against him. Gabriel kissed her hair, knowing the instant she fell asleep in his arms, and smiled as he held her close. There had been so many times, especially lately, that he had thought to simply cut off his wings so that Michael couldn't use them against him, but he was glad he never had. 

Where his own brothers had made him see his wings as liabilities, something that was almost ugly, she had made him feel beautiful. She treasured his wings, bringing him pleasure instead of pain, comfort instead of sorrow. He laid his cheek against her hair as he closed his eyes, and breathed in deeply of her scent. The feel of her in his arms comforted him, the heat of the water soothed him, and in moments he was asleep.

**~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~**

Gabby sat down slowly on the bed beside Gabriel, a soft smile curling her lips into a gentle bow. He always maintained that he didn't snore, but he did. A little rumbling sound when he breathed, barely loud enough to hear, but adorable all the same. She watched as his eyes fluttered open, the man stretching lazily as he met her gaze. She chuckled when he shifted enough to spread his wings, and wrap them around her. 

Laughing as he pulled her down to lie on his chest, Gabby greeted him with a kiss, and moaned in pleasure at the warmth and safety of being wrapped in his wings. There was such a freedom to him now, ever since the night she'd made him show his wings. He didn't hold back when they made love, not in any manner, she thought with a chuckle. Most mornings she was deliciously sore because of it, and she didn't regret it one bit. She felt him kiss her hair when she stretched languidly against him, and turned her head up to meet his gaze.

She closed her eyes and leaned her face into his palm when he slipped his hand against her cheek. She kissed his palm before turning her eyes up to meet his, and felt breathless under the weight of his stare. The love in his eyes was matched only by the adoration in his expression, and Gabby knew she was lost. Whatever happened between them, whatever became of their relationship, she wouldn't forsake a single moment of it. In that moment she knew she wouldn't be able to keep him, not forever, and maybe not even for as little as a year. But for whatever time they had left, he was hers, and she was his. And maybe, just maybe, that would be enough. 

"You look far too serious," Gabriel told her, and Gabby smiled as she chuckled softly. 

"Just thinking," she told him, smiling as she shook her head, telling him silently not to worry. "Manny's got the bar covered today, no need for either of us to help out."

"Really?" Gabriel grinned, pulling in a deep breath that rolled at the back of his throat. 

Gabby hummed her reply as she nodded and lent forward to kiss him chastely, chuckling when he pulled her closer to deepen the kiss. Pulling back from the kiss, she curled up on his chest and lifted her hand to reach out for his wing. He trembled beneath her, a low rumble vibrating in his chest, when she sank her fingers deep into his feathers and massaged the muscles underneath. Part of her wondered if she would remember the feel of his wings five, or even ten years down the road. Would she remember that he was truly an angel, or believe him to be nothing more than a fantasy sent to soothe her after her father's death? 

"There's that seriousness again," he said, his voice half teasing as he offered her the opening.

"I want to go back to Quantico," she told him softly, curling closer as she tried to tell herself that this wasn't an end. "I want you to go with me."

She didn't look up at him, didn't lift up, or turn her head to meet his gaze. Part of her was afraid he would say no, that he would tell her he hadn't come to Seattle just for the files her father had been holding onto. They had spent four glorious months together, getting to know one another, developing a deeper relationship as lovers, strengthening their intimacy as friends. If she lost him now, she would lose part of herself. She needed him for just a little bit longer, just until she was strong enough to let him go. 

"Quantico, huh?" he asked her, tightening his arms and wings around her in a reassuring hug. "What would I do there?"

A slow smile spread across her face as she held him close. "I've got a few friends I want you to meet," she told him. One of them, Daniel Carter, he's a C.A.R.D, agent, but before that he specialized in trauma counseling for kids, like you did."

"C.A.R.D.?" Gabriel asked as she curled closer to him.

"Mmhmm," Gabby hummed. "Child Abduction Rapid Deployment. They're FBI agents that specialize in child abduction and recovery. They get called out to a kidnapping scene as soon as it's reported," she told him. "I thought you might like to talk to him, to learn what he does."

"I'd like that," he replied, and she smiled when he kissed her hair. "When did you want to leave?" he asked, and Gabby took in a deep slow breath.

"In two weeks," she told him softly. "Manny's been interviewing a few people to help out with the bar, and I want to make sure he's got at least one person hired before we leave."

"What about the house?" he asked her. 

Gabby sighed heavily. "I don't know that I'm ready to sell it, but it wouldn't be smart to just leave it sitting empty. I've been thinking about asking Manny to move in. He and his wife would take good care of the house."

"What's been holding you back?" he asked her softly, as he stroked her hair.

"It would all be final," she said, and sighed deeply. "Mentally, I'm ready to accept everything, but emotionally? I talked to the station chief and asked him for the case file my dad was working on before he died. If his death was a hit, then I want the son of a bitch who did it."

Gabriel's smile was slow as he nodded and rubbed his hands up and down her arms from her shoulders to halfway to her elbows. He kissed her chastely and met her gaze.

"Ok," he agreed. "I'm new to all of this, but I need to know how to do this. Teach me how to hunt."

She smiled in return, laughing softly as she slipped her arms around his neck and hugged him. He smiled against her lips when she kissed him, and groaned when she slipped her hands beneath the cover of his shirt. She smiled when he trembled beneath her, her fingertips teasing gently at the top edges of the joints where his wings met his back. She didn't think she would ever grow tired of his wings, or the way he responded each time she touched them. Something told her to cherish each and every one of these moments spent with him, and she pulled back to study his face as she tried to memorize every line and curve.

"Will I remember you?" Gabby asked softly, unable to stop the question from being asked.

"What do you mean?" Gabriel asked, his brow furrowed in concern as he held her gaze.

"When you're gone, when it's time to move on, will I be able to remember you? Remember us?" she asked, and felt his chest expand when he took in a deep breath.

"You'll remember me," he promised her with a smile. "Is that what you've been worried about?" he asked her, and kissed her.

"Part of it," she admitted with a slow now nod. "You're an angel," she told him, and he smiled as he nodded. "I just didn't want the memory of you to be taken away, or reduced to a . . . " She dropped her head with a sigh before she met his gaze once more. "To a dream that faded away."

"I wouldn't let that happen," he assured her.

She closed her eyes when he cupped her face in his hand, and leaned into his palm. "I'm going to have to call Ace back and let her know you're coming," she told him with a small grin. "She's going to be incorrigible now."

"I do believe you're ringing," he told her, and she chuckled as he pulled her phone from her back pocket. "Incorrigible is calling," he teased her.

Gabby laughed as she answered the call on speaker and set the phone down on his chest. "Hi Ace," she greeted, amusement in her tone, and met Gabriel's gaze.

"Hi! Oh my God, so I didn't get to tell you before because the results weren't in and I didn't get the ding until after you hung up and," Alicia rattled on, her words almost running together for how quickly she was speaking, and paused to take a breath. "I got the last six months of your dad's case files, and you're right, he was digging into something really big. Which reminds me, did you ask him?"

Gabby dropped her head as she laughed quietly, and nodded to Gabriel as if to say _this is my friend, get used to her now_. Tipping her head as she looked at him pointedly, she watched as the man beneath her smiled and rolled his eyes with humor.

"Hi Ace," Gabriel greeted her, and laughed at the sound of the analyst's excited squeal. "I'm coming with Gabby to Quantico," he told her, and met Gabby's gaze.

"Yes!" Alicia cheered. "Oh hey! There's someone here that wants to say hi," she told them with excitement.

"Hey, Coffee Girl," a male voice greeted them, the sound like rich warm butter over chocolate.

"Hey, D.B.," Gabby returned with a smile. "Gabriel," she said with a grin, "meet Supervisory Special Agent Daniel Bryan Adams," she introduced. "Or D.B. as we like to call him."

"So, this is the famous Gabriel," D.B. mused, and Gabriel arched his brow as he looked at Gabby. "C.G., I'll see you when you get back. Ace gave me a copy of your dad's case files. We found something you need to see."

"Ok," Gabby said, and smiled. "I'll see you two crazy people in a few weeks."

She laughed at the happy excitement Alicia ended the call with, and shook her head. Looking down to meet Gabriel's gaze, she twisted her lips to the side, and glanced at his wings. He chuckled beneath her, and she smiled as she bounced on his chest.

"I only bring them out for you," he told her, and smiled at her. "Dad, hell even my brothers, would flip out if they knew," he told her with chagrin. 

Gabby shook her head as her brows lifted in disbelief. "It's still hard for me to reconcile the fact that he's real," she said, moving slowly as she climbed off of him, silently thankful when he parted his wings to allow her freedom. "After everything I've seen on this job, the thought that God is real in any aspect is . . . hard to swallow."

"Don't take this the wrong way," he began as he sat up, and tucked his wings away. "You and your team are a bit like the Devil." She looked at him sharply, and he held up his hand in a request for her silence. "You hunt down the ones who have done wrong, and you punish them. The Devil isn't evil, Gabby, he punishes evil."

"Tell me," she requested, able to see that there was more to the story. "Lucifer's your brother, right?" she asked, and he nodded.

"Lucifer," he repeated his brother's name with wry humor. "When he was with us, he went by Samael. He hasn't been called that in a long time. We were close when we were growing up," he said with a soft nostalgic chuckle. "I always called him Sammie."

Gabby sat next to Gabriel, listening as he told her about the relationship with his brother. It was fascinating to hear the same stories she had heard from the bible, and religious leaders told from the prospective of someone who'd actually lived it. She laughed when he told her about the pranks he and Lucifer used to play on their brothers, Amenadiel and Uriel, and leaned into his side when he told her about losing Lucifer, and the fall that gave birth to the Devil. 

"Somewhere along the line, Dad just stopped caring," Gabriel said, and Gabby studied him quietly as he opened up to her. "Humans began killing each other en masse in His name, and he didn't even care. He just . . ." Gabriel sighed as he shook his head, and Gabby watched as he seemed to fold into himself. "It was like He just disappeared. It's kind of funny, you know?" he said as he turned to meet her gaze. "Sammie was right. He always said that one day Dad would lose his interest, and He did."

**~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~**

Gabby stood at the kitchen window, her hands braced on the edge of the sink, her eyes closed and head bowed. She had known since the first night he had stayed with her that Gabriel had nightmares, but they were getting worse. Taking in a deep breath, she looked up at her reflection in the glass, the darkness of the night turning the window into a mirror, and took a chance. Closing her eyes, she concentrated on what Gabriel told her a few days earlier, and prayed.

"I never expected he would tell you about us," a deep smooth voice said from behind her, and Gabby turned to face the impossibly tall man behind her. "Then again," he said with an amused arch of his brow. "I never expected him to reveal himself to you."

She could feel her lips twitch with the smile she was barely able to suppress, heat flushing her cheeks, and tipped her head.

"I didn't exactly give him much choice," she said, and met his gaze when he laughed.

"You're not afraid in the least, are you?" Uriel asked, and Gabby shrugged.

"Should I be?" she asked him, and watched as he tipped his head.

"Most humans are," he said, and Gabby nodded slowly in thought.

"Most humans never even see a hint of the world I do," she said, and took in a deep breath. "He has nightmares," she said, effectively ending the small talk as she cut to the chase.

"It's a little bit more than that," Uriel told her, his brow furrowing as he studied her. "Did Gabriel tell you what his gift is?" he asked, and Gabby frowned in confusion.

"His gift?" she repeated with a shake of her head.

"We all have one," he told her, and smiled in thanks as he took the cup of coffee she offered him. "Mine, is for seeing and influencing patterns," he told her, as he followed her to the small round kitchen table and sat down across from her. "His is for hearing the prayers and cries of children."

"Children," Gabby repeated as her gaze fell to the side, and she felt her breath still as horror filled her mind. "The kidnappings he's talked about," she said, as she met Uriel's gaze, and watched him nod. "He can hear the children?" she asked, pained at the thought of what Gabriel was going through.

"More than that," Uriel told her as he took a drink of his coffee. "Gabriel can feel them, their emotions, their pain, their fear. Father wanted him to be the guardian of children, and then all of this started happening." He shook his head as he chuckled, his expression somewhere between amused and impressed. "You know, I couldn't have planned this any better myself," he told her as he met her gaze.

"What?" Gabby asked as she stared at him in confusion. 

Uriel smiled as he studied her. "You. You're the wild card. This was supposed to be a dot on the map, as they say. He was supposed to gather the file and move on. Instead, he met you. An FBI profiler, a woman who works day in and day out in a world that he has only barely begun to look into and is desperately trying to understand. The funny thing is, I'm the one who can influence patterns, and I never even saw you coming."

Gabby lifted her brows as she turned her gaze down to the dark liquid in her mug. "I'm not sure if that's a good thing, or not," she admitted with a touch of humor, and met Uriel's gaze.

"Time will tell," he answered her.

A comfortable kind of quiet fell between them, the moment peaceful and calm. She hadn't been certain what to expect when she'd called on Uriel. If she were being honest with herself, she hadn't truly believed he would answer her prayer at all, but he had. For all the openness of their conversation, she couldn't help wondering why he had come to her. A smile teased at the corners of her lips as she realized why she had such doubt he would answer her. Somewhere along the line, her mind had classified angels in with a level of secrecy like the CIA. 

She tried to suppress the amusement she felt, and shook her head when Uriel asked what was so funny. Would he even understand the reference, she wondered. When she looked up at him, took note of his relaxed dark suit, part of her had to wonder how he had gotten the clothes to begin with. Did he actually dress in clothes the way humans did, or did he just will them to be there? And if he did simply will them in place, did that mean he was actually naked and she was only seeing what he wanted her to see?

Her eyes opened wide as she blamed the illogic of her inner musings on sleep deprivation. Shaking herself from her thoughts, Gabby looked up at the sound of footsteps receding in the hall outside the kitchen. Glancing across from her, she frowned to find Uriel gone, his mug left sitting on the table, and wondered where he had disappeared to. She hadn't heard him get up, she thought, as she looked around the kitchen. Seconds later, her eyes darted to the floor above her as she heard Gabriel cry out, and she ran for the stairs. 

It didn't take her long to reach Gabriel's room at the top of the stairs, and she stopped outside the slightly open door. Uriel was sitting with Gabriel, holding his brother close as he soothed him, and she couldn't bring herself to go in. With what Uriel had told her, these moments of pain and anguish Gabriel suffered weren't nightmares. He wasn't reliving some horrific event that his mind couldn't let go of. Instead, he was feeling the pain and fear of children who were being kidnapped and harmed. 

How many cases had she and her team dealt with in the past year alone where they recovered kidnapped children, or rescued children from abusive environments? She could close a case and walk away from it, but Gabriel wasn't given that choice. Closing her eyes as she turned away from the door, Gabby made her way back down stairs, and gathered her phone from the kitchen counter by the coffee maker. This wasn't about her anymore, she thought as she dialed a familiar number, and maybe it never had been. For all the beauty they had shared over the past few months, there was a darkness that had never stopped coming, and she would foolish if she thought she could ignore it any longer.

"Now, I know why _I'm_ awake," the teasing voice greeted her, and Gabby smiled.

"Hey, Ace," she returned, her voice sounding more tired than she intended. "I need a favor."

"Anything for you, my sweet," Alicia returned. "Ask and you shall receive."

Gabby laughed. "God, I miss you," she said with a soft chuckle. "I need you to go nationwide, pull all the case files for every unsolved kidnapping and abduction. Even if there was a belief of custodial interference, or the victim was marked as a runaway, pull a file if no body was found," she instructed, and was greeted with silence. 

"How far back?" Alicia asked after a few moments. 

"Five years, at least," she answered. "More if you can. And get me in touch with Joe Bradshaw."

"Joe Bradshaw?" Alicia repeated slowly. "As in leader of the D.C. chapter of B.A.C.A.?" she asked.

"That's the one," Gabby agreed. "This is what Gabriel does," she told her friend. "He searches for the ones everyone else gave up on. He's a . . . champion," she said, frowning in uncertainty as she thought over the word, "for kids. The kidnapped, the abused, the forgotten. He's been doing this solo for a long time."

"Well, then it's high time we showed him what it's like to have a team of people helping him," Alicia said, and Gabby smiled. "Last time we worked with Joe, he told me about another faction that had split off from theirs. It's small right now, maybe twenty bikers total nationwide," she said, the sound of her typing on her keyboard comforting and familiar. "Joe said they were calling themselves B.A.K.A. Sounds the same, but the acronym is different. Joe's team is Bikers Against Child Abuse, and the other one is Bikers Against Kidnapping and Abduction."

"They might just be the network Gabriel needs," Gabby mused, and bowed her head as she smiled. "You're the best, Ace."

"You know it," she cheered. "I'll hit you back when I've got the numbers."

The call clicked off a few seconds later, and Gabby lowered the phone from her ear. She closed her eyes as she set the phone down and looked around the kitchen. There were memories here she would always treasure, the ghosts of her father, and the family she'd lost. She and Gabriel had created new memories here, the whispers of the time they spent together in almost every room. As passionate and beautiful as their love had been, as amazing as it still was, the fairytale, she knew, was coming to an end.


	26. Chapter 25 "As It Seems"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We've got one more chapter after this one before we return to Chloe and Lucifer. There are some of you who may view this as some kind of break from the story itself, but believe me it all ties in with future chapters.

AN: Lucifer and all recognizable characters belong to Jerry Bruckheimer and FOX television. Set post 'Take Me Back to Hell'. . (Written prior to the start of season 2.) 

 

Summary: There is only one thing that can make an immortal vulnerable, only one thing that can hurt an angel aside from another angel - their mate. It was only a rumor, a baseless myth, something Amenadiel had never believed, until it happened to Lucifer.

**Memento Mori**

Chapter 25

**_"As It Seems"_ **

by WhisperingWolf


_"This isn't going to be pretty. Rules will be broken. Friendships will be tested. And huge risks will be taken. But they're small prices to pay for true love and freedom, right?" - Lisi Harrison_

The flight from Seattle to D.C. had been relatively quiet, a surprise considering that there were at least three babies among the passengers, and a few more toddlers and young children. Perhaps that was the advantage of traveling with an angel who was the guardian of children, Gabby thought as she looked at the man sitting next to her. His presence soothed the children, easing them to sleep with the same reassurance of a mother's lullaby. 

Gabby smiled and shook her head as she watched the woman sitting in the middle section holding her daughter. The child couldn't have been much older than eighteen months, but she was sleeping soundly in her mother's arms. The expression on the woman's face was loving, and more than bit wondrous. Gabby looked up when she felt Gabriel's hand in her hair, and grinned as she nodded to the woman she'd been watching. He chuckled low as he grinned, and dropped a kiss to her brow when she looked up at him.

"Was that you?" Gabby asked him with a grin.

"Children feel safer around me," he told her. "Protected."

"So they sleep because you make them feel safe?" she asked with curiosity, and Gabriel chuckled.

"They sleep because of the energy I project. It soothes them," he told her with a grin. "I've been around for a long time, Agent Foggerty," he teased her. "And if there is one universal truth, it is that children travel much better when they sleep. They feel the elevation and temperature changes much less," he said. "And it's easier on their parents."

Gabby smiled as she leaned into his side, and rested her head against his chest. For years now her life had been about nothing but the job. The last four months had seemed almost like a dream to her, the freedom she'd felt, the love she'd found. It renewed her spirit, and in some ways, she could see that it had renewed Gabriel's as well. There were things she would need to do once they hit the ground, people she would need to meet with, and arrangements she would need to make. 

She closed her eyes at the sound of the announcement, and watched as the man next to her buckled the belt across his waist. He held more than a passing disbelief that the paltry strap would do anything in the event of a crash, but she had told him that it was more about keeping the bodies in place than it was about helping them survive the fall. If the plane went down, the last thing anyone wanted to see were bodies flying through the air around them. Amusement furrowed her brow as she watched him look around the plane cautiously. 

For someone with their own set of wings, he didn't seem to like flying very much. Or maybe, she thought, he just didn't like flying inside of a tin can. Air travel was a standard part of her job, the cases she and her team handled were rarely close to home. But for him, it was different. If he wanted to fly, he simply had to step outside and spread his wings. He was in control of the flight, and most if not all of the variables. A human flight didn't bring that same security for him. Calling his name softly to gain his attention, Gabby lifted her hand to cup Gabriel's cheek in her palm, and brought him down for a kiss. She felt him gasp against her lips, heard the soft growl of his arousal as he wrapped his arms around her and drew her close.

"That's not fair," he chided her when the plane landed with a bounce, and she giggled.

"It's only not fair because we can't do anything more right now than kiss," she told him. "We have the next two days mostly to ourselves," she promised him, and reached down to free him from the seatbelt when the plane came to a stop. 

"Now you're just teasing me," he groused, and she chuckled.

"C'mon, Cowboy," she teased, and he smiled at the nickname she'd given him. "D.B. will be picking us up from the airport," she told him, and stood from her seat when he did. "All those mothers will be sad to see you go," she teased Gabriel as a woman walked by carrying her sleeping infant. 

He chuckled as he reached into the overhead compartment for their carryon bags. He handed her laptop case to her when she reached for it, and she grinned when he slung the strap for her go bag over his shoulder. She took his hand as she lifted up onto her toes and kissed his cheek, delighting in the dusting of color on his skin. For as energetic as he could be when they were together, and as much as he loved the kisses they shared, it was still her act of kissing his cheek that could unbalance him. 

"You know," he mused, as he followed her off of the plane. "The flip side, as you like to call it, is that those children won't sleep at all tonight," he told her with a touch of amusement.

Gabby turned her head to look back to him as they walked down the ramp, and laughed. 

"Look who's the terrible tease now," she jested, and took in a deep breath as they stepped back into the main concourse. "Washington D.C., how I've missed you," she said, and turned her head to look to her left and sighed. "And your criminal element."

Gabriel chuckled from behind her as they watched a man be led away in cuffs. "Does that happen often?" he asked, and she sighed as she shook her head.

"More often than you might think," Gabby replied. "Direct flight, or not," she told him as she led the way through the airport. "Their coffee sucked ass."

"Which is why I dropped by the Bebida del Diablo stand before coming up here to meet you," a deep voice said from behind them.

Gabby gasped as she turned around, and nearly growled with pleasure. "D.B., you brought me -"

"Your favorite," he interrupted her, with a smile and handed her a tall cup. "Twenty four ounce quad shot Irish cream and peppermint mocha," he told her as she took to drink. "With their special crème de menthe whipped cream." He looked at Gabriel, and handed him another cup. "She told me you liked medium roast black coffee," he said, and Gabriel took the coffee from him.

"Oh that's good," Gabriel said after taking a sip of his drink.

"La amante del diablo," D.B. told him the name of the blend, and Gabriel choked on his coffee as he laughed.

"The Devil's Mistress?" he translated with disbelieving humor. 

"A blend of slow roast vanilla, hazelnut, Irish cream, and chocolate flavors," Gabby said, with an indrawn breath of pleasure. "I've got a monthly shipment of that coffee. It's -" She cut herself off as she looked at Gabriel with a mischievously sexual grin. "Well, I used to say it was better than sex," she purred.

"You got her to admit that there's something better than coffee?" D.B. asked Gabriel with wide eyes. "That's a miracle in and of itself," he teased.

"Hush you," Gabby fired back with a laugh. "The dinner for tonight?" she asked as he led their way through the airport and down to the baggage claim.

"I booked the room down at The District House, and Kevin is pulling out the giant round table for us," he told her, and Gabby leaned down to grab her rolling suitcase off of the carousel. "Joe will be meeting us there, and he's bringing in a few of his friends. Ace will be bringing a few of her white hat hacker locals that consult for law enforcement, and then there's our team, and a few others will be joining us."

"How many in total?" Gabby asked, and sipped at her coffee when D.B. led them out to his waiting SUV.

"Planning for thirty," he answered her, and motioned for her to hand him her coffee.

"Hey," Gabby protested with a mock pout, but handed over her cup. "Morgan!" she squealed with excitement when he opened the backseat of his vehicle.

Gabriel laughed as Gabby was greeted by the black lab, the dog barking and dancing excitedly as he pranced around her, his thick tail wagging energetically. She grabbed the loose fur by his jaws and shook him playfully as she laughed. The dog jumped up, and she wrapped her arms around him as she hugged the creature close. She heard D.B. laugh as he spoke to Gabriel behind her, telling him how much she loved the dog, and how she had been the one to train him. It had mostly been an act of curiosity on her part, taking small patches that had been scented with explosive residue and hiding them in different places.

"Morgan may be my dog," D.B. said, "but he will do just about anything for her," he said with a laugh.

"That's because he's a good puppy!" Gabby said as she played with the dog.

D.B. scoffed as he looked at Gabriel. "That's because when she was training him, she rewarded him with bacon. Not those treats that are formed and scented like bacon for dogs, but real, actual bacon. I can't make breakfast for myself at home, unless he gets a plate, too."

"So he's a bomb dog?" Gabriel asked, and D.B. tipped his head.

"I had his training evaluated by one of the handlers at Quantico," he said. "He's as skilled as any one of their dogs, but he will only work with me, Gabby, or Ace," he told him. "So in their eyes, while he's a skilled ordinance dog, he's not well trained enough to work with just anyone." 

"I can't believe you brought my baby!" Gabby cheered, and smiled when the men laughed at her excitement. "We should get on the road. I, for one, would like to see how my apartment is holding up."

"You're still calling it that?" D.B. asked, and shook his head with disbelief as he silently commanded Morgan back into the car, the dog curling up on the back seat near the opposite window. "It's more of a two story brownstone on the Potomac."

"It's essentially a family heirloom. I got lucky," she dismissed with a grin. "When is dinner?" 

"Everyone's planning for eight tonight," D.B. said as he put their luggage into the back of his SUV. "Ace is planning to get there around seven to set up with summaries of the case files you've had her gathering. This is as much a get to know you dinner, as it is a briefing with this hodgepodge task force we've put together."

Gabby nodded as she turned her attention on Gabriel. "There are a lot of good people who want to help you," she said with a grin, and climbed into the back beside Morgan.

"Give it up, man," D.B. told Gabriel with a laugh as he slipped behind the wheel, and waited as Gabriel joined him in the front passenger seat. "Until I drop you two off, that dog is going to have her undivided attention."

Gabriel chuckled as he looked back at her from the front seat, and she met his gaze with a smile. Maybe getting a dog wouldn't be such a bad idea, he thought as he watched her with the creature. He'd had a dog before, and he certainly understood the comfort and companionship the animals could bring. Not to mention that with the right training, a dog could be a very skilled and dutiful protector for her. He knew how bad this case was, and the last thing he wanted was to see her hurt because of it.

"Ace wanted me to let you know that she took care of your kitchen," D.B. said as he turned onto the city streets. "She also said something about your emergency stash being rather sad and neglected," he told her, his tone making the statement into a question.

Gabby laughed as she played with Morgan. "What that means," she told the dog as she showered him with attention. "Is that your Auntie Ace filled my freezer with the most delicious ice creams, and restocked my chocolate drawer, and I'm pretty certain I will find a freshly baked stash of her butterscotch pecan shortbread cookies waiting for me when I get home."

D.B. sighed as he chuckled and turned to look at Gabriel. "If you thought she was bad with coffee . . . " he said, and let his statement hang unfinished in the air.

"Hey!" Gabby admonished them, and sighed as she laughed with them. "It is good to be home."

**~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~**

The drive from the airport to her house took almost an hour in the late morning traffic, and Gabby felt a sense of relief as D.B. pulled his SUV up into the driveway of her home. Stepping out of the vehicle, she closed her eyes and breathed in the familiar mix of the brine from the river, and the scent of the centuries old brownstone. She hadn't been exaggerating. The house had first belonged to her ancestor back in seventeen-sixty-five. The woman had been powerful in her own right, able to influence business and politics to her own gain, but then she had married an equally powerful man.

Her great aunt Patricia, the woman who had left her the house in her will, had once joked that their ancestors had been the Kennedy's of the Potomac. Throughout the American Revolution, the Civil War, and even the first World War, the power and influence of her family hadn't wavered. It hadn't been until World War II that all of that had changed. The prestige of the McClarry name had fallen when the men had been sent off to war, and died over seas. The women had survived, building cars, planes, and even weapons, but the name had changed when there were no more men to carry it down the line.

"McClarry House," Gabriel read the inscription pressed into the stone above the door. 

Gabby nodded silently as she reached for her keys, and unlocked the door. Turning back to wave at D.B., she watched him nod as he backed out of her driveway, Morgan sitting in the passenger seat next to him. That dog had about as much personality as D.B. did, and she loved him for it. Her smile faded to a quiet grin as she turned back to the house, and watched Gabriel as he moved inside the foyer. He was more than a little impressed as he moved around, and she watched him study the line of photographs in the front hall with wonder.

"We call it McClarry Corner," she told him as she stepped inside, and shut the door.

"She looks just like you," he said as he studied an old black and white photograph inside a grey wood frame, the edges of the picture yellowed with age.

"Fiona Ainsley," she spoke her ancestor's name. "She was the one who had this house built. As the family legend goes, she was a woman who held this kind of hypnotic power. No matter where she went, or who she was with, people stopped to listen to her when she spoke. Even when she was a child. She was intelligent and kind, but very resourceful, and not someone you wanted to cross. She could turn a pauper into a king, and a king into a pauper. Her influence was so powerful, that when word that she was of the age to marry made it back to Scotland, they sent their most handsome and rich man from the Highlands, Quinn Macallan McClarry," she recounted the story, and smiled as she bit her lip. "They say that neither of them was too happy with the prospect of being married to someone as powerfully influential as they each were, but as soon as they laid eyes on each other, they fell madly in love."

She smiled when Gabriel stood by her side and wrapped his arm around her. Leaning her head against his chest, she studied the image of her ancestor with nostalgia and wonder. There was a part of her that wished for the love Fiona had found, and another part of her that wondered if she hadn't already found it. The practical side of her mind broke her out of her whimsy, and she blinked as she looked away from the photo. There would be no wedding between herself and Gabriel, no decades long romance, but maybe that was okay. Maybe what they had was enough.

"Sometimes," she mused softly to herself, "in order to have the greatest impact, you have to work together, but at a distance."

"Hm?" he hummed his curiosity, and she shook her head as she stepped away from him.

"Smile for me, Gabriel," she bid of him as she raised her phone, and took a picture of him. "I have to go out for awhile," she told him, and rose up on her toes to kiss him. "I'll be back well before we have to meet the others for dinner."

"Gabby?" he called to her when she turned away, and she stopped to look back at him. "Is everything ok?" he asked, and she gave him a bittersweet smile as she nodded.

"Yeah," she answered softly. 

"No one else is here, right?" he asked her, and she frowned in confusion as she nodded. "Come here," he said softly, and held his hand out to her.

She turned toward him, taking his outstretched hand, and smiled softly when he pulled her into the twin embrace of his arms and wings. Her eyes closed as she sighed with pleasure, relaxing completely when she was engulfed in the warmth and comfort of his feathers. He tipped her head up with a finger beneath her chin, his lips meeting hers for a sweet slow kiss. She whimpered as she returned his kiss, her hands fisting in his shirt as she pressed closer to him.

"These past few weeks we've been so busy with packing up your father's house and getting it ready for Emanuel and his family, and then with getting ourselves ready to come here," he reminded her as he held her, and she curled against him with a sigh. "When you come back, I fully intend to make up for lost time," he promised, and she met his heated stare with a smile of pleasure.

"I'll hold you to that, Cowboy."

**~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~**

Stephen del Monte, or Monty as he was known on the streets, was one of the best documents forgers this side of the Atlantic. No one knew him by accident, and if you did happen to know his name, it was because someone had referred you to him. He was smart, careful, and always seemed to be three steps ahead of the authorities. There were rumors he had once worked for the CIA, others said he was a former ICE agent who had gotten tired of seeing good people treated like animals, while still others would say worked for the mob. Whatever his origins were, no one seemed to know the true story.

Nothing ever connected back to him, he made sure of it. Some clients he took on pro bono because of their situation, others he would trade favors with for his services. There were only a few clients that paid him in cash, but for those clients, a million dollars was little more than pocket change. Four years ago, Gabby had been tipped off to him, and come a hair's breadth from having the evidence she needed to arrest him. The information had come from a man who seemed intent on bringing him down, and she had found out why when she caught Monty protecting the informant's battered wife. Instead of arresting Monty, she had let him go, with the promise that one day he would return the favor to her. But until then, they had formed an easy kind of partnership. 

She never told him if any agencies were moving after him, she didn't need to. Somehow he always knew, but what she did do was send people his way. Victims who were being hunted by their tormentors because they'd gotten away, or innocent people who needed to disappear and start a new life in a place where no one knew them. In return, he would send her tips on how to find his rivals, forgers who weren't nearly as skilled as he was, but willing to make papers for the monsters she hunted. The system they had set up together kept their affiliation secret. Today, Gabby thought as she drove down the street, he would return the favor she had given him. 

Pulling into the parking lot of what appeared to be an abandoned warehouse, she parked her car under the cover of a two century year old oak and waited. Watching the streets around her, and the rooftops of the nearby buildings, she was careful to make sure that she hadn't been followed before she exited her car. Very few people even knew that she was back in D.C., but on the streets, news traveled like wildfire. 

It didn't take her long to cover the distance between her car and the building, the grey clouds overhead providing her ample cover. Turning her head up to look at the camera mounted in the corner by the door, she announced herself and waited. Seconds later, a buzzer sounded and the lock on the door unlatched with a loud clack. She pulled open the door just enough to slip inside, and heard the metallic thud as the lock snapped back into place. 

To anyone else, the warehouse would have seemed empty, but she knew better. There were small short range digital cameras mounted on the walls, and in the rafters, electronic eyes that could follow any and every movement in the building. Following the soft series of beeps that worked as a sonic set of directional arrows to the back of the building, she slipped into Monty's office and waited in the shadows while he completed whatever he was doing on his computer. If he didn't have the moral code she knew he did, she wouldn't have let him go all those years ago, she thought. But he was a good man trying to do some good for the people who had no other way out.

She watched as he closed the windows he had open, and turned back to her, his black rimmed glasses perched on his nose. He was only five foot eight, but in a world where reputations were how things were communicated, size didn't matter. Meeting his hazel gaze, she watched him tilt his head, and moved away from the shadows to step closer to him. 

"Word on the street was you quit," he told her, looking at her over the rim of his glasses.

"Not so much," she told him, and looked down at the papers he was working with. "I need a favor," she said, and drew in a deep breath. "Full documentation and background work. After the job's done, you would be free and clear of me. Any information you send my way after this would be at your discretion."

"Well for that price," the man said with a crooked grin as he turned back to the computer in front of him, and cleared his desk. "What do we have to start with?"

"Nothing," she told him, and met his arched brow gaze. "Pretend he's Amish," she said, and watched him nod. 

"You got a picture?" he asked, and she motioned with her phone when he looked back at her. "You know the number," he told her, and she texted the picture to the burner phone he kept for just such occasions. "What's his name?" he asked as he uploaded the picture onto the computer, and cropped it for identification documents.

"Gabriel Darcy," she supplied, and watched him type the information in.

"Middle name, or initial?" he asked, and Gabby shook her head.

"No," she denied. 

"Hometown?" he asked, and pulled up a form for a birth certificate on the computer.

"Libby, Montana," she answered immediately, a smile tipping her lips.

She had barely been a teenager when she had gone with her father to that place. Libby was a town of unmatched beauty, and she remembered thinking that it had to have been painted by angels. The peacefulness of the town was perfect for him, and with an open and honest personality like Gabriel had, she knew it fit him. 

"Age?" Monty asked, and Gabby frowned. 

"Let's say thirty-two," she answered him, and he nodded.

"Date of birth?" he asked, and she shrugged.

"Make one up," she instructed him.

"Sign?" he prompted, and Gabby shook her head.

"Of what?" she asked when he looked back at her.

"Astrological," he said, his brow arched.

"Oh, um," she said, and frowned as she fell silent. "Leo," she said with a slow nod. "He's definitely my noble lion."

"Helping a lover flee town?" he asked, only half joking, and she stared him down until he turned back to his computer. "Right," he said with a sigh. "Height."

"Six three," she answered, and watched as he input the information.

"Weight," he prompted. 

"Buck eighty-five," she answered. "Athletic build," she said, and watched him nod. 

"Hair color," he said, and turned back to her when she remained silent.

"Red?" she said, her tone turning her answer into a question. "Spiced honey blond hair with hints of rose gold," she defined the color, and watched as he turned back to his computer.

"Strawberry blond," he said, and typed in the color. "Eyes."

"Blue with an outline of deep green," she said.

"Which color is more dominant?" he asked, and she frowned in thought.

"You notice the green first, and then the blue," she answered, and he nodded. 

"Sports?" he asked, and she watched as he pulled up a website for a high school in Libby, Montana. 

"From his looks and movements," she said, and blew out a breath. "Football, track, swimming, or wrestling."

"Which one's more believable?" he asked her, and she narrowed her gaze as she considered the question.

"Track," she said, and met his gaze. "Track and football," she amended. 

"Believable GPA?" he asked her, and she watched as he began inputting the information into a form that would backdate the data into a student profile for Gabriel.

"Three-point-nine to four-point-two," she answered. "He's damn smart."

"Dominant area of study," he said, and arched a brow when she remained silent. "You want this to be believable," he reminded her, and she nodded. 

"History and music," she said after a few moments. "In high school, anyway."

"College?"

"Doctorate in Child Psychology with a specialty in trauma counseling, Masters in Sociology and Latin," she said immediately. "He needs at least six years as a forensic child psychologist, working with federal and local agencies as a trauma counselor."

"Firm, or private practice," he asked, and Gabby looked down.

"Private practice," she answered. "But he also needs a paper trail showing he's trying to make the change into being a private investigator." She stepped closer and sat down on an overturned wooden crate. "Monty," she spoke his name, and he turned to look at her with a frown. "Have you ever heard of someone making papers like this for kids, or teenagers?" she asked, and his frown deepened.

"You're not talking abuse victims, are you?" he asked her, and she shook her head. "What's going on, kid? You're never this reserved when you're looking for intel."

"A few months ago, Gabriel and I discovered a pattern," she told him quietly. "Kids, young kids, anywhere between five to ten were being kidnapped. Then they'd show up years later in arrest reports as sex workers, drug dealers, thieves, any number of illegal activities. Some were found dead after . . . " She fell silent as she shook her head, the memories of crime scene photos chilling her to the bone.

Monty sat back with a heavy sigh as he stared at her with wide eyes. She glanced up at him, and in that moment she let him see how much the information she had found truly haunted her. 

"I've heard rumors," he told her. "This is what your guy is trying to get in front of?" he asked her, and she nodded. "Carson Meyers," he supplied her the name, and gave her a hard commanding glare. "You do _not_ go after this guy without solid evidence, and you do _not_ confront him alone," he told her, and she frowned in confusion. "He's a high ranking and active agent inside Immigration and Customs Enforcement. He doesn't make papers, but rumor has it, he moves people around and makes others disappear. Word on the street is that he trades favors with the Mendoza Cartel out of Guatemala and Boris Yonnovic to get what he needs."

"Yonnovic as in the Petrov crime family?" she asked with wide eyes, and he nodded. She laughed, the sound tired and disbelieving as she bent forward and covered her face with her hands. "Every time I think we're close to finding some foothold of truth, we fall down another rabbit hole."

"Gabby," he called her name, and she looked up to meet his gaze. "I've worked with you, and I've even come to like you. Something happens and you need to get out, you come to me. Don't let them take you into WitSec, come to me and I will help you disappear."

She nodded as she frowned and tipped her head. "You called it 'WitSec'," she said. "Not Witness Protection, or the rat cage," she observed as she studied him. "Are you really ex-CIA like the rumors claim?" she asked him, and he sighed.

"No," he said. "Former Marshall. I was tired of giving the bad guys a free pass while the victims suffered for it. And before you ask, Stephen del Monte is not my real name" he told her.

"I know," she replied with a nod. "I kept searching for any trace of your name, and just kept being brought back to an old detective novel from the nineteen forties."

"What can I say?" he returned with a grin. "I like the classics."

He turned back to his computer when a ding announced the completion of documents. Turning to another machine off to the side, he reached for the items it had finished creating, and turned back to her. He handed her a US Passport, a Washington D.C. driver's license, and a social security card. He promised to have the rest of the documents to her within forty eight hours, and she nodded. 

"Are there others like you?" she asked him. "People trying to help the victims," she defined, and he nodded. 

"It's a small network. There aren't very many like us," he told her, and she nodded. "It's mostly hackers, and former black hats turned white. I think I'm the only former fed."

"Could you reach out to them?" she asked him. "See if they might know anything about the kidnappings and such," she said, and watched as he looked away for a moment before meeting her gaze.

"I will, but only if you swear to me that you'll come to me at the first sign of danger," he demanded of her, and she nodded. "Don't take this lightly," he warned her. "This kind of a case is not a career killer, they'd never let it get that far. You'd just end up as another dead agent. Wrong place, wrong time, and gone without any sense as to why."

She nodded quietly as she stood, and tucked the identification items into her jacket pocket. The more she learned about this case Gabriel was working on, the more frightened by it she was. She wouldn't back down, it wasn't her style, and she knew Gabriel wouldn't either. She just wished there was someone who could promise her that at the end of it all, everything would be ok. She released a heavy sigh as she felt the weight of it all come down on her.

"You know," she said, finding comfort in the relative secrecy of their relationship. "Working with the BAU, I thought I'd seen everything. With most of the people we hunt, I can almost understand the actions they take, but this . . .?" She shook her head as her eyes widened. "I don't understand this at all. It's like the monster in the closet when you were a kid."

"Gabby," Monty cautioned her as she met his gaze. "Keep your burner phone on," he told her. "Something goes sideways," he said, and she nodded.

"I'll call you," she finished, and turned to leave. "Thanks Monty."

"You want to thank me?" he asked her when she reached for the door. "Don't get yourself killed."

**~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~**

Gabriel laughed as he lifted his glass of Guinness Stout, and turned to look at the woman beside him with a smile of appreciation. The dinner party was a large gathering, but each person had their own role to play. While many of them worked in the grey areas, others worked on absolutes of right and wrong. There were at least six people with masterful hacking skills, not counting Alicia. They may have consulted for law enforcement a time, or two, but most were private hackers trying to change things for the better. 

There were ten members from local chapters of national motorcycle organizations, or biker gangs, as Gabby had called them. Joe Bradshaw, Mike Cowles, and Jeremy Peterson from Bikers Against Child Abuse. Corey Stephenson, Thomas Finely, and Robert "Bobbie-O" Odinson from Bikers Against Kidnapping and Abduction. Then there was Jefferson Scott, he thought as he looked at the man. He, and the three men with him, were from different chapters of a biker gang that worked with the National Center for Missing and Exploited Children. They were the ones who helped out with kidnapping cases from the rougher parts of town, places that most police officers didn't go into.

D.B. sat across the table from Gabriel, Thomas Folk, the team lead from the BAU and Gabby's boss, sitting to D.B.'s left. Alicia, or Ace as everyone knew her, had planted herself on Gabriel's right, and seemed to be equally as fascinated with him as she was happy for the relationship between himself and Gabby. The rest of Gabby's team sat in pairs on either end of the table, marking it like a compass. The woman who ran the D.C. office of The Center for Missing and Exploited Children was with them, as was the man who ran the local office for the International Rescue Committee. 

Their dinner party had been filled with the Who's Who of people that tracked, investigated, and solved cases regarding domestic violence, abduction, and human trafficking. It had been almost three weeks since the night Gabby had told him that there were people she wanted him to meet, but the connections she had made for him this evening were nothing of what he could ever have anticipated. Looking up from the people around him, he frowned as he caught sight of his brother standing by the bar.

Excusing himself, Gabriel stood and moved out of the meeting room they were in, and stepped into the main area of the pub. Catching the eye of a nearby waitress, he let her know that they were mostly done with their discussions and would welcome a few menus. She chuckled as she told him not to worry about anything, Alicia and Gabby had planned for everything, and the food would be arriving to their table in the next half hour. He nodded to her as she stepped away, and moved to take the stool beside Uriel.

"I didn't think you drank," Gabriel commented, as he met his brother's gaze.

"Last time Gabby and I talked, she said I looked a scotch guy," he said with a grin. "She was right."

"She usually is," Gabriel returned with a laugh. "What brings you here?"

Uriel took in a deep breath. "Over the next few months, you are going to be very busy, and you and Gabby will be separated often," he cautioned Gabriel. "You need to learn how to operate in this world without her."

"Did you tell her this?" Gabriel asked, believing it to have explained her behavior since they'd settled into the city. 

"No," Uriel replied, and released a huff of amusement. "Actually, she was the one who told me. The night before you two left Seattle. She said I would know when the time was right, but that you needed to hear it from me. Don't get upset," he said, and Gabriel frowned at him, his displeasure clear in his expression. "Think about what she does, Gabe. Think about what you're here to do, and who you're here to work with. You and Gabby are here to make a difference, to change what's been happening, and push back the darkness. But you, and I, and Gabby, all know that to do that, you and she can't be together. You two would spend too much time trying to protect each other to focus on putting an end to this evil. To stand together in this fight," he said, and let his statement hang unfinished in the air.

"We have to stand apart," Gabriel said, and sighed. "Why does it all have to change so fast?" he asked with a heavy heart.

"Because that's the way it is," Uriel said, and sipped at his scotch. "I know you love her. And trust me, dear brother, that woman loves you deeply. But this was never meant to be long lasting. You needed to be strong again, and she gave you that strength. You needed a foothold into this world, humans to connect with who could help you, and she gave you that, too."

"Did you plan this?" Gabriel asked him, and Uriel laughed.

"I wish I could take the credit," he said with humor. "I never even saw her coming. But she was exactly what you needed."

"You think Father sent her?" he asked with confusion. "After all He's done to keep me from being here in the first place."

"No," Uriel said, his lips pulling up in a wry lopsided smile. "If there was anyone from our family to do something like this, who's the one person that's given you what you needed even when you didn't know what that was, especially if it meant defying Father?"

"You think Sammie did this?" Gabriel asked with disbelief. "But . . . How?"

"I didn't say he did, all I'm saying is that it wouldn't surprise me if he was somehow involved with this," he offered with a shrug. 

"But he's in Hell," Gabriel said, denying his brother's involvement.

Uriel looked at him quietly for a moment. "Is he?" he asked before he stood, and left a twenty dollar bill under his empty glass. 

Gabriel watched Uriel leave the bar, his confusion growing as he stared after him. It was Uriel who was gifted with influencing patterns and events, not Lucifer. And Lucifer was in Hell, he thought with a frown, but Uriel had made it sound as though he wasn't. He shook his head as he stood from his seat at the bar and returned to the table waiting for him in the back. If his brother hadn't influenced his relationship with Gabby, hadn't even seen her coming, then who had sent her, or was she truly the unknown element Uriel had made her out to be?

**~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~**

It had been a little more than a month since Gabby had returned to D.C., and he along with her. Gabriel sighed as he heard the front door open and close, and seconds later the sound of her car pulling out of the driveway. He hadn't truly understood the demands her job made on her time. There was no set schedule to her work, no defined patterns to when she would be home, or when she and her team would consider their work done for the day. 

The first week after she had returned to her work at the FBI, she had come home each day between six and eight at night. She had gone through meetings, psychological evaluations, and fight training in preparation for returning to duty. He had been with her, watching her move and aim as she had passed through her firearms qualifications, and the walkthrough weapons testing he'd overheard a few people calling Blind Man's Alley. She had been focused, uncompromising, and so on point with everything she did that it had been hard to take his eyes off of her. 

Gabby was a warrior, he thought as he moved away from where he stood leaning against the counter next to the coffee maker. When they were in town, and either off duty, or in a period of down time, he would work with D.B. The man was not only an exemplary field agent, but as Gabriel had come to find out, he was also one of the best hand to hand combat instructors at the FBI Academy. It was because of the man that Gabriel had fallen into a routine of going for a three mile run each morning, and a one mile run each night. And while he didn't need to exercise to stay fit, he found the routine of it to be relaxing.

Taking his cup of coffee with him into the library of the house, he set the mug on the large oak wood table, and moved to the computer Gabby had purchased for him. Everything he had was because of her, and as much as he loved her for it, he ached at her absence. Uriel had been right, he thought with sigh as he sat down. Their fairytale had come to an end. He opened the file on the computer he'd been working with, and studied the pattern he had been able to establish for the timeline of the victims. It wasn't much to go on yet, and there were no ties to any one person, or organization, but the timeline at least allowed him a pattern to look by.

Reaching for the thickest of the files he had, he opened it and pulled out a folded map of the United States. Small adhesive dots were littered across the country in three different colors. Red for children under the age of five, yellow for children between the ages of five and twelve, and white for children between the ages of twelve to seventeen. There were places on the map so covered in the dots that it was overlaid with another sticker referring to the detailed map of the state itself. 

Of the forty-eight contiguous states, there were ten cities that stood out with the highest number of kidnappings per capita. Los Angeles and Glendale, California shared the highest number, followed in short order by Chicago, Illinois; Birmingham, Alabama; New York City - specifically the Bronx; and Austin and El Paso, Texas. The last three cities: Flagstaff, Arizona; Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania; and Durham, North Carolina all shared the same number. And while they held the lowest number of unsolved kidnappings among the cities belonging to the top ten list for highest number of unsolved kidnappings, it was still a significant amount.

He closed his eyes as he focused his thoughts. Two thousand children went missing each day in the United States, and somewhere along the line, that number had simply become the accepted norm. Eight hundred thousand children went missing each year. And of those numbers, only four percent were recovered alive. For the remaining cases, a quarter of them were never recovered at all. They simply disappeared, and were at some point presumed dead without any actual evidence that they had been killed. 

A knock at the front door drew him from his thoughts, and he set the file aside as he stood from his chair. He grinned and shook his head when he found Karen Molina standing on the front stoop, a cup of coffee in each hand. Inviting her inside, he accepted the drink she'd brought for him, and led her back into the space he had turned into a temporary office. She was one of the hacker friends Alicia had introduced him to the night of the dinner when he and Gabby had first returned, and she was the one person he had found himself working with the most in his efforts to research the kidnappings.

"Usually, you call, or IM me," he said as they sat down at the table.

She nodded quietly, her eyes wide. "There were so many cities, that I decided to just pick two and see what comparisons I could find. You know, I wasn't even expecting to find any links at all," she told him, and he arched a brow at her tone.

"From the sound of it, I'm guessing you found something?" he asked, and watched as she nodded slowly. "Karen?" he prompted when she remained silent. 

"I took two of the lowest number cities, the ones where unsolved kidnappings were barely a thing," she told him, and listed the cities. "I don't even know why, but I looked into their unsolved homicides, the ones where the victims were just kind of written off. JoBeth Fartrough was kidnapped from Ellensburg, Washington in nineteen eighty seven," she told him. "Her body was found in Springfield, Ohio ten years later, except that she had been listed as Crystal Meyers, and in the police report it said she was a known sex worker."

"Find any other connections?" he asked as he wrote down the information.

"A few other cases like that," she said, and took out a collection of six file folders from her messenger bag to hand to him. "There was another thing," she told him, and fell silent with a sigh. "There was an old house in Raleigh, North Carolina that had been bought by the bank. It has been listed as an abandoned property for the past thirty years, but every now and then there's evidence found of people having stayed there. Normally, I would think squatters, or runaways, you know, but this house is protected because it was a historical site from the Underground Railroad. There's a tunnel that goes from the basement to the farmhouse, and from the farmhouse to a shed near a patch of forest. I wasn't able to find much through local police reports, or news articles, but I did find a few other places that were similar to it."

"These are all in different cities," Gabriel said as he looked over the stapled stack of papers she handed to him.

"Yes," she agreed. "But each one is protected from being torn down because of its historical significance. Some were speakeasies from the days of prohibition, others were from the Underground Railroad, a few were back from the days of the Cold War when people built bunkers and tunnels under their homes, there are even some that were used as hospitals and safe houses during the Revolutionary and Civil Wars. Each of those structures have hidden passages built into the walls, or trap doors that lead to tunnels underground. According to state records, no one has lived in those homes for at least a decade, if not much longer. But according to incident reports, there was evidence found of someone staying in each of those places. Some only overnight, others for a lot longer. It's not much, but it's something to go on."

"Is there anyone on the ground in these places who can give us more information?" he asked her, and looked up to see her purse her lips.

"That's the thing," she told him. "Joe Bradshaw has someone in each city who is willing to show someone around, but they would be guides and protection detail only. There's no investigator who knows what to look for like we do, and certainly no one that any of us would trust with this."

"Meaning I would have to go to each of these cities," he said, and she nodded.

"Yeah. Look I know you just barely got here with Gabby, and you're still learning the ropes at this whole investigation thing, but when you're ready," she told him, "I can set up the information to make it look like you have an established P.I. business. You'll need to take some other cases while you're in those cities," she cautioned him. "Enough to support yourself, and make it look like you're not _only_ investigating those locations."

"How long do you think I'd need to stay in each city in order to not make it look suspicious to the people behind this?" he asked her, and watched her shoulders move as she sighed.

"Idealistically?" she replied. "A year. Realistically? Four to six months at least. You can talk to Joe, see if there are any P.I.s his guys work with in the other cities, but truthfully, this is your investigation. To see it done, to know it's done right, and by someone that can be trusted -"

"I'd have to do it myself," he finished for her. "Thanks," he told her, and stood from his chair when she did. 

"How much longer do you have in the classes you're taking here?" she asked him, as he walked her to the front door.

"They're online classes, so I could take them anywhere, I suppose," he said. "But I've got about eleven weeks left for the semester."

"How many courses are you taking?" she asked him, and he chuckled.

"All of them," he said with a grin. "I don't sleep that much, and I remember everything I read, so it makes it all a little bit easier."

"I guess so," she agreed with a grin. "Hey, if you're up for it, I've got a friend who's looking to hire a private investigator. Should be a fairly easy case, but get the ball rolling for you, if you're interested."

"Yeah," he agreed. "What's the case?"

"Her grandfather's watch was stolen," she told him. "Personally, I think it was her lousy ex boyfriend who did it, but she seems to believe he's in the clear. Anyway, I'll send her your way and take care of the billing for you."

He frowned at her comment. "The billing?"

"Gabriel, you're a sweetheart, but kind of a softie. The standard fee for any private investigator in this area is a thousand a week, plus expenses," she told him, studying him with an arched brow. "Tell me you'd be ok with asking her, or anyone else, to pay that."

"Uh, well, I - I could . . . Yeah, you should take care of the billing," he told her, and she chuckled.

"And that's what makes people trust you," she told him with a smile. "You're willing to go out there and do the work without getting paid, but, Gabriel, you need to get paid. So, you go be the one that everyone can turn to, and I will be the ruthless one that takes care of the billing so that you don't have to."

"I think you just like being ruthless," he teased her, and she laughed.

"Well," she hedged with a grin. "There is a bit of fun to it. Anyway, I'm off," she told him, and smiled. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do," she called to him over her shoulder as she walked away.

"Is there anything you wouldn't do?" he asked her when she reached her car. 

"Depends on who I'm with," she tossed back with a mischievous grin. "TTFN!"

He stood in the doorway as he watched her back her car into the street, and drive away. After all the large vehicles he had seen Gabby and her team drive, and the motorcycles Joe and the others rode, he wasn't too sure what to make of Karen's tiny frog green Volkswagen Beatle. There were even a set of round flood lights on the top that were designed to look like frog's eyes. Shaking his head, he rubbed his hand over his face and stepped back inside the house. He shut and locked the door before he returned to his work, and looked down at it all with a sigh. 

Three months at the most, he could remain here with Gabby, but then after that he knew he would have to leave. His schooling for Criminal Justice and Criminal Science would be complete, her friend having laid the ground work for him so that the only thing he had to take were the classes geared specifically toward performing the investigations, and studying the theory and patterns of criminal behavior. The last thing he wanted to do was leave her, but he knew he had to. Someone needed to investigate the locations Karen had found, and he was the only one who could. 

"This was supposed to get easier," he said to himself as he looked at the box filled with the files that had been collected so far. 

_"If it was meant to be easy,"_ Gabby's words from a few weeks ago came back to him. _"Then it wouldn't be worth it. The things that tear us apart inside, that make us question what the important thing really is, those are the things that matter most. They change us, sometimes for the good, sometimes not, but in the end, they're always worth it. Don't fear what the future might bring, Gabriel. Fear what happens if you stand still."_


	27. Chapter 26 "When an Angel Breaks Part II"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two things to note: 
> 
> One, for those of you who may be new to this particular fic, my Uriel is not the Uriel from the cannon TV-verse. This Uriel looks like Joe Manganiello and tends to be more supportive. IE: Not a dick.
> 
> Two: This is it, folks. You hung with me for this side story that needed to happen, and the next chapter will be returning to Lucifer.
> 
> As always, thank you to all my readers and fans.

AN: Lucifer and all recognizable characters belong to Jerry Bruckheimer and FOX television. Set post 'Take Me Back to Hell'. . (Written prior to the start of season 2.)


Summary: There is only one thing that can make an immortal vulnerable, only one thing that can hurt an angel aside from another angel - their mate. It was only a rumor, a baseless myth, something Amenadiel had never believed, until it happened to Lucifer.

**Memento Mori**

Chapter 26

_**"When an Angel Breaks Part II "** _

by WhisperingWolf


_“Sometimes the only available transportation is a leap of faith.” – Margaret Shepard_

The curtains fluttered with the movement of the air, the whisper of rustling feathers the only sound to announce his arrival. The house was dark, quiet, as the night surrounded the home in a comforting embrace. Uriel moved quietly as he stepped through the kitchen, his eyes sweeping across the room as he took in the neat array of containers and appliances, the spotless counters and clean floors. The neatness, the order, that was Gabby’s influence, he thought with a touch of humor. He knew his brother, and for as put together as Gabriel was, he had a tendency to forget himself.

The television was still on, the sound from the flat screen making it appear that some kind of battle was taking place. Bodies crashed together, grunts of pain and force creating a cacophony of sound. He shook his head as he blinked and watched the men on the screen slam into each other with gusto. Mud sprayed up from the ground as one man crashed into another, and he watched as they seemed to kick at each other before two men were knocked down, and another ran to the left. 

“Rugby,” he said to himself as he reached for the remote, and turned off the television. 

He set the remote down on the side table and turned toward the stairs. It wouldn’t take long, he thought as he sat on the arm of the couch. He watched as a light flicked on in the upstairs hall, the light spilling out over the top of the stairs. A shadow appeared a few seconds later, and he watched as his brother appeared on the stairs. Uriel crossed his arms over his chest as he drew in a deep breath, and waited.

“You were supposed to have left for Georgia two weeks ago,” Uriel said as he looked up toward the stairs.

Gabriel sighed as he stopped halfway down. “I still have things to put in order,” he said as he made his way down the stairs, and turned toward the kitchen. 

“She’s returned to her work,” Uriel told him as he stood to follow his brother.

“She’s home now,” Gabriel said as he opened the fridge. 

“Gabe,” he began, only to be silenced by the look on his brother’s face when Gabriel handed him a beer.

“She was shot,” Gabriel said, his voice low and angry. “She was chasing down a suspect with her team. They split up to surround him, and he shot her to get away.”

“How is she?” Uriel asked, and watched as Gabriel’s wings appeared, the feathered appendages twitching with irritation. 

“Sleeping,” he said tightly. “For the most part. She’s having nightmares about that whole case. Ten hours,” he said, his voice trembling as his wings flared wide with his anger. 

Gabriel closed his eyes as he ground his teeth together, and folded his wings back behind him with effort. Taking in a deep breath, he released a slow sigh, and hid his wings from view as he opened his eyes. Uriel met his gaze as he waited for his brother to speak, and watched as he downed the rest of his beer before tossing the bottle into the trash and reaching for another. Gabriel had always been closer to his emotions than any of his other siblings, and because of that, Uriel knew he was barely holding on. Especially if Gabby had been hurt as badly as it sounded like she had been.

“She was in surgery for ten hours,” Gabriel finally said, and closed his eyes as he set his drink aside on the counter behind him. “He shot her three times, once in the chest, once in her shoulder, and one in her side. The bullets ripped through muscle and bone, punctured her lung, shattered her clavicle, and nicked her aorta. The doctor who worked on her said she coded twice,” he said, and moved to sit down at the table. “The case was local,” he said with a derisive laugh as he shook his head. “She hadn’t even left the D.C. city limits. And where was I?” he asked, and Uriel watched as his brother’s hand fist on top of the table. “I was _investigating_ a stolen watch. A _damned watch_ , Uriel!” he snarled. 

“What happened to her wasn’t your fault,” Uriel said, and watched as Gabriel sprang up from his chair. “And you weren’t investigating for fun, Gabe. This isn’t a game. You need to build these skills, and she knows that.”

“She was wearing a vest, and the bullets cut through it like it was made of paper. _I’m_ the one who’s bulletproof!” he hissed furiously. “I should have been there. At least I could have protected her.” He turned away, pacing angrily toward the fridge and back again. “She had Morgan with her. I pushed her to get special approval to take him with her to the office and out in the field. He didn’t even stand a chance. That dog is dead, and for a _week_ she was barely hanging on by a thread,” he growled.

“Gabe,” Uriel interrupted him, placing a hand on his brother’s shoulders to stop him from pacing, and met his gaze. “Where is she now?”

“Upstairs. I brought her home four nights ago,” Gabriel said, and nodded to the floor above them. “She’s on medical leave for the next few months, but Uriel,” he said, and paused as he looked up to meet his gaze. “I don’t want her going back to this.”

“Let me go check in on her and then we’ll talk,” he said, and patted Gabriel’s face. “You two both have a duty, a purpose. You can’t hide from it forever,” he told him wisely, before stepping away. 

“I’m not hiding,” Gabriel said irritably, and Uriel turned back to meet his gaze. “But I won’t abandon her to be killed, either.”

“I know,” he agreed with a shallow nod. 

Uriel moved through the hall as he made his way to the stairs. He knew Gabby’s job was a dangerous one. Gabriel knew it, too, but he also knew his brother. Of all the heavenly host, Gabriel was the one most in touch with his emotions. It made him able to communicate and understand humans in a way that most of the angels couldn’t, but it also made him more susceptible to getting attached. And if Gabriel was as attached as he believed his brother was, Uriel thought, then he wouldn’t leave.

He was halfway up the stairs when he heard the soft groan from the room above, and gave a fleeting smile when the woman he was going to see called out his brother’s name. Her voice was weak, hoarse, and he shushed her gently as he came to the slightly open doorway. Pushing the door open, he reached for the light switch on the wall, and met her tired gaze as he stepped toward the bed. 

“Hey stranger,” Gabby greeted him with a tired smile. 

“Hey yourself,” Uriel returned as he sat next to her on the bed. “I heard what happened,” he said, and watched her wince as she tried to sit up. “Hey now, my brother will have my head if you pull anything,” he jested as he eased her back down to the pillows. 

“I’ve been shot in the line of duty before,” she told him, and groaned as she squeezed her eyes closed. “Granted, no one’s ever gotten this close to taking me out before,” she said as she pressed her hand against her side.

“Bullet wound?” he asked, and frowned at her laughing cough.

“No,” Gabby said with a sigh, and Uriel helped her sit up when it became clear she didn’t want to lie down anymore. “The son of a bitch who shot me was kind enough to kick me in the ribs for good measure after putting the bullets in me. Hey, where’s Morgan?” she asked as she looked around the room. 

“Gabe didn’t tell you?” he asked, and watched her frown.

“Tell me what?” she asked, and reached for the bottle of water on the bedside table. “D.B. told me Morgan was the one that helped take down the unsub, but no one will tell me when I can see him.”

Uriel sighed as his brows rose high on his forehead, and looked down at the blankets. “I think they were trying to protect you, waiting until you were a bit stronger,” he told her, and looked up to meet her gaze. “Morgan was killed by the same man who shot you.”

“Oh God,” she whispered horrified. “Not my baby,” she said softly as tears filled her eyes. “I’ve known him since he was a squirmy little puppy.”

“He died a hero,” Uriel told her, and watched as she pushed her emotions back.

“Tell me what’s going on,” Gabby said as she reached for his hand. “Gabriel told me what your role in everything is. You wouldn’t be here unless something big happened, or is going to happen.”

Uriel chuckled softly as he rubbed the pad of his thumb over her knuckles, and met her gaze. “Is that a woman thing, or an FBI thing?” he asked, and smiled when she laughed.

“The FBI thing only amplifies the woman thing,” she teased him. “Tell me what’s happened,” she asked, and smiled thankfully when he handed her the bottle of over the counter pain medication that was just out of her reach.

“Gabriel was supposed to have left almost a month ago,” he told her. 

“I know,” she told him with a slow nod. “He had a flight to Savannah booked almost three weeks ago.” She smiled as she smoothed the blanket over her lap. “He likes the planes,” she told him with a chuckle. “He was going to get a bike once he got to Savannah. A Harley or a Honda, he hadn’t decided. D.B.’s let him use his a few times, and he loved it.”

“Why didn’t he leave?” Uriel asked, and watched as Gabby lifted a braced hand to rub over her face.

“I started getting hang up calls two days before his flight was due to leave,” she told him. “And then the night before his flight, someone threw a brick through the window.” She fell silent as she shook her head. “There was no note or symbol, nothing to say who or why it was thrown. It could have just as easily been a baseball, but . . . “ She paused as she met his gaze, and sighed. “A baseball could have simply been an accident. There’s no mistaking a brick. It was a warning. But from who, and why, we never did figure out. He refused to leave until he knew I was safe. I tried to reason with him, but he wouldn’t hear it. And then this,” she said, and motioned to her current condition. 

He watched as tears filled her eyes. She turned her face away from him, her eyes closing as a tear slipped down her cheek. He touched her shoulder, wanting to offer her some kind of comfort, and watched as she turned back to meet his gaze. 

“I don’t want him to go,” she confessed, as she cried. “I know he has to, but I also know that once he leaves I’ll never see him again. I tried to use my job as a buffer, something to put between us to create distance, but the longer we lived together the more I wanted . . . more.” She sniffled as she looked up to blink back her tears, and sighed as she met Uriel’s gaze. “I don’t have any false hope, or misconceptions,” she told him with a soft sigh. “I know what has to be done, and that Gabriel and I aren’t meant to last forever. I know we each have our own path to take. But if Gabriel doesn’t have unshakeable undeniable proof that I am protected, he won’t leave. Too much has happened just in the last month alone.”

“With you,” Uriel said, and frowned when Gabby shook her head.

“With everything,” she told him. “It started kind of normally. Gabriel had been researching more of the cases, and going through the digital files Ace sent him when his computer crashed. It came back up a few moments later, but everything had been wiped from it. The only thing he has left of the files is what he had printed out and the physical files we had collected from cold case storage. But that’s barely anything. Out of the near two hundred case files he had, now he only has twenty-five. The flash drive that held the files Ace had gathered for him was wiped as well. A few weeks later the house was broken into and the notes he had made of the connections he had put together were destroyed. He’s starting over from the beginning. Whoever is behind all of this,” she told him, her voice shaking. “There’s nothing they won’t do to protect all that they have built.”

“You’ve received more threats than you’ve told him about,” Uriel said with a frown, certain that he was correct, and watched as she nodded. 

“My team is being watched,” she told him, and pulled in a deep breath. “We don’t know by who, or why, yet, but there is someone out there watching us.”

“And he definitely wouldn’t leave if he knew that,” Uriel said in reference to Gabriel.

“No, he wouldn’t,” Gabby agreed.

Uriel watched as her breaths became deeper, heavier, and her eyes began to droop. Speaking to her softly as he encouraged her to rest, he helped ease her down to lie on back on the pillows before he covered her with the blankets. Leaning down over her when she sighed as she neared sleep, he kissed her brow, blessing her as his father had commanded of him, and willed her to have strength as she healed. Considering what happened to Morgan, he thought as he watched Gabby smile as she fell asleep, there was no way Gabriel would trust her safety in the hands of a mortal dog, or even a human. There was only one creature he knew of that was fiercely protective and impervious to human weapons, no matter how destructive those weapons might be. 

Turning away from the bed, Uriel walked to the door of the room and looked back at the sleeping woman once more before turning off the light. He didn’t know why his father had asked him to bless this woman, only that he knew his father seemed to have taken Gabriel’s rebellion to heart. Perhaps, he thought, his father was finally understanding how important this world was to his son. And maybe, just maybe, God didn’t want to find himself casting out Gabriel as he had done with Lucifer. 

“Either He’s getting wiser,” Uriel thought aloud. “Or, as the humans say, He’s playing the long con.”

The trouble was, he thought as he moved down the stairs, he didn’t know which it was. If their father truly was getting wiser, what did that mean for his family and the rest of the world his father had created? But if he was instead playing the long con, who would suffer for it in the end? The corner of his mouth twitched in a fleeting derisive smile, and Uriel realized that somewhere along the line, he had stopped trusting his father. There was doubt now, and too much of it for him to simply sweep it under the proverbial rug. 

“Is this what you felt, Lucifer?” Uriel asked as he came to the bottom of the stairs. “Did you so long ago see what none of us were ready to?”

**~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~**

Gabriel closed his eyes and bowed his head from where he stood at the bottom of the stairs. He could hear Gabby’s soft alto, and his brother’s warm baritone, but he wasn’t close enough to hear their words. There was a part of him that was certain he didn’t want to be privy to their conversation, confident he knew what they were discussing. He nodded to himself as he sighed and moved through the house to exit out the back door. 

The night air was unusually warm and scented with the flowering trees surrounding Gabby’s home. It greeted him as he breathed it in, and sat down on the stone steps leading down into the yard below. The more he thought about leaving Gabby, the more he felt torn between two worlds. He knew what his mission was, and why he had come down to Earth in the first place. Nothing could make him forget that. But then there was Gabby. 

She taught him what true happiness was. She showed him what love was, pure and unconditional. There had never been a time when she had asked for his obedience, or his servitude. All she had ever asked of him was that he be true to himself, and it was in loving her he discovered who that person was. He still felt the emotions of the children, the ones who cried out to him for help. He felt the storm of rage and pain and fear, but Gabby had taught him how to separate himself from it. She had taught him how to identify the emotions, and how to recognize when they weren’t his.

Not even six months ago, he would have been immobilized by all he felt from the children being harmed, the ones who were kidnapped, the ones who begged to die just so that they would no longer be hurt by the people who were supposed to protect them and love them most. His lips pulled up in a crooked bittersweet grin as he thought back to the day that he had followed the cries of a child through the town, Gabby chasing after him desperately trying to understand his rage.

There had been no thought to his actions as he had broken through the door of a house, and put himself between a young child and the drunken mother who was abusing him. The boy was only six, but the mother had blamed him for everything from his father leaving them to being cut off in traffic and nearly crashing the car they were in. He had shown himself to her, his wings unfurled and spread wide, his body glowing with Heavenly light, and his rage causing his eyes to burn with the power he was only barely able to control. 

The woman had fainted, and he had stood over her as he’d watched Gabby arrest her before he had let his rage fall away. He could still remember the sound of the little boy’s gasp when he turned to face him, and bent down on one knee in front of him. The child had clung to him even after he’d tucked his wings away, only letting go when he had promised him it would be ok. Every week that little boy sent him and Gabby a letter through his social worker, and in the last letter he’d written, they’d learned he was to be adopted. The tone of the boy’s words had grown happier as time had passed, giving him strength in knowing that a better future lay ahead of the child he’d saved.

“She’s strong, you know.”

Gabriel sighed at the sound of his brother’s voice, and nodded. He knew there was more his brother had to say, and slid over on the stone step, silently offering his brother a seat next to him. It didn’t take long for Uriel to join him, and Gabriel turned his head to the side to meet his gaze for a moment before he turned back to look out over the trees and river below. 

“Gabby knows that you both have a job to do,” Uriel said, his tone heavy but kind. “It seems you’re the one who’s forgotten.”

Gabriel closed his eyes as he sighed. “I haven’t forgotten,” he denied as he turned his head up to look at the stars overhead. “Why do you think it is that Father gave us all the same emotions as humans, but was always so careful to never let us feel love?”

“Father loves us,” Uriel said with a frown, and Gabriel chuckled, the sound devoid of humor. 

“No, He doesn’t,” Gabriel said, and shook his head. “Not like this.”

“You mean what you feel for Gabby?” Uriel asked with a slow nod. “Love can bring you strength you didn’t know you had,” he told his brother wisely. “But it can also bring you to your knees faster than any demon bent on taking your head.”

“I was ready to go,” Gabriel told him. “I had my things together, and for all the hang ups, all the little suspicious things that had kept happening leading up to that day, I was confident that Gabby would be ok. Logan,” he spoke the name, and shook his head. “You don’t know him. He’s a friend of D.B.’s, transferred in from the Chicago office. He was with me on the investigation into the watch. Teaching me a few things, when the call came in. It wasn’t even that far away, and the way he drove, we made it there before the ambulance.”

Gabriel took in a shaking breath as his shook his head. Folding his lips together in over his teeth, he bit down and rubbed his hand over his mouth. 

“There was so much blood,” he told Uriel, his voice choked. “Gabby was . . . she was choking and gasping for air. She couldn’t breathe. I’ve never seen her that scared. _I’ve_ never _been_ that scared. I hid myself from the humans’ view and stood in the back of that operating room. I couldn’t,” he said, and choked on his breath as he struggled to control his rising emotions. “I couldn’t leave her. I watched the doctors work as fast as they could, but as soon as they got one broken vein or artery stitched and closed, another one opened up. I couldn’t leave her,” he said again, his voice trembling as tears fell from his eyes. “There were so many times they said they didn’t think she was going to live, but Gabby’s a fighter,” he said with a laugh. “And she _fought_.”

“You’ve got to fight now, brother,” Uriel told him. “Just like she did then. You’ve got to fight for the ones who can’t fight for themselves. She knows that, Gabe. She said she’s tried talking to you about it.”

“She wanted me to leave while she was still in the hospital,” he said with a scoff. “She’s stronger than I am,” he admitted softly. 

“What’s keeping you here?” Uriel asked, and Gabriel stood as he moved down to stand in the grass below.

“She’s hurt,” he answered at length. “She needs to be protected, and as much as I want to say that I could be the one to protect her, I wasn’t there when she needed me. She was beaten, and shot, and nearly killed, and there wasn’t a damn person who could have stopped it. They said Morgan attacked the guy, tried to rip him apart, and even he was no match. And that,” he said as he turned to stare at Uriel, “ _scares the Hell out of me_. How can I leave her, when I know that someone out there is just going to kill her? I feel like I’m leaving her to die.”

“And if I could find a way to prove to you, beyond the shadow of doubt, that she was protected?” Uriel asked, and Gabriel frowned in confusion. “If I can prove her safety to you both?” he asked.

“Short of getting Gabby her very own angelic body guard?” he asked with a shake of his head. 

“You let me handle the how,” Uriel said, and nodded behind him. “Go. You know she’s where you want to be.”

Gabriel nodded quietly from where he stood in the grass at the bottom of the stairs. He turned his eyes out to the starlit water of the Potomac once more before moving toward the stairs. Stopping just long enough to put his hand on his brother’s shoulder in a quiet sign of gratitude, Gabriel continued up the steps and into the house. He felt the shift in the air as he closed the door, and nodded to himself when he looked out the window by the door to find his brother gone. How Uriel was going to keep good on his plan to ensure Gabby’s safety, he didn’t know, but he had also never known his brother to be one for half measures, or empty promises. If Uriel believed it could be done, then he would find a way to do it.

Moving slowly around the house, Gabriel gathered up the notebooks and papers he had been working with, returning the few bits of information he had left regarding the kidnappings to the safe built into the wall. Gabby had told him that she had never found use of the safe before, but had offered it to him after the devastating loss he had suffered when his files had been deleted and notes stolen. It still disturbed him how it had all happened so easily, as if it had taken those responsible no effort at all. 

Neither he, nor Gabby had been home, and he had never felt unsafe leaving his notes out on his desk before. He had gone out for a run, the exercise unplanned and only engaged in because he’d needed to clear his head. When he had come back to the home less than an hour later, the notepads he had filled were gone, and several of the files he had pulled from the archives with Gabby and Alicia’s help were gone. The windows and locks hadn’t been broken, there was no sign that anyone had been in the home aside from the missing files. He hadn’t been able to make sense of it, but after working more than a few small-town law enforcement corruption cases, Gabby had.

He shook his head as he locked the front door. To think that someone had been, and may still be, watching the house disturbed him. It was yet another reason he didn’t want to leave Gabby behind. No matter how important this entire case was to him, the thought that someone might strike at her as soon as he left held him frozen. 

Gabriel looked up at the stairs behind him, pulled from his thoughts by the sound of Gabby’s voice calling out to him. Shaking his head as he chuckled softly, he took the stairs two at a time, and didn’t stop moving until he reached her side. He couldn’t quiet his amusement as he watched her struggle with the bottle in her hands, the ibuprophen refusing to open for her.

“You have a very easy to open bottle of prescription pain meds right over here,” he told her, and nodded to the orange bottle sitting on the night table next to her. “The doctor said to take one every four hours, or as needed,” he reminded her as he sat next to her on the bed. “That particular bottle,” he said as he nodded to her hands, “was in the medicine cabinet in the bathroom.”

Gabby sighed as she stopped trying to open the childproof bottle, and rested her hands on top of the blankets covering her lap. She shook her head as she looked up at him, and his brows pulled together for a fraction of a second before smoothing out as he watched her. Even the nurses in the hospital had commented on her near refusal to accept pain medication. There was no opioid dependency in her family, or her past, no reason that he knew of as to why she would reject the medicine. 

“Talk to me,” he requested of her. 

“It’s no dark secret, or anything,” she told him. “I just don’t like how they make me feel.”

“Side effects?” he asked with a frown of confusion. 

“Vulnerable,” she admitted at length. “It’s just been me for so long,” she told him. “I signed up for the FBI and never looked back. I’d visit home, and see Dad, but it wasn’t the same. The first month after moving into this place, I barely slept at all. It took almost a full year before I got used to the sounds that were normal for the house. The creaking of the stairs that, in the beginning, sounded like someone trying to sneak through the house at night. The sounds of the pipes expanding and contracting as water moved through them that sound like someone knocking. I know every noise around me, I know the feel of the house when no one’s here but me, and I know the feel of it when I’m upstairs and you’re downstairs working. But with those things,” she said as she glanced at the bottle on the table, “I can’t feel or connect with any of that. It’s like I’m separated from my own thoughts and senses, and I can’t be that . . . “

“Vulnerable,” Gabriel finished for her, and Gabby nodded. “The pain right now?” he asked her, and watched as she closed her eyes.

“The Advil’s little more than fairy dust,” she said, and shrugged only to wince sharply at the movement. “It doesn’t take the pain away, but it helps me move a little bit better.”

“Make you a deal,” Gabriel offered, and met her curious gaze. “You take those tonight because we both know you need them, and as long as you promise to tell me if you’re uncomfortable, I’ll keep you wrapped in my wings tonight while you sleep.”

She looked up at him with wide eyes and a hopeful smile tugging at her lips. “You haven’t held me, or laid next to me, since you brought me home.”

“I’ve been afraid of hurting you,” he admitted. “It’s not like you just pulled a muscle, Gabby,” he reminded her. “You were shot three times. Your ribs were cracked and bruised when he kicked you. Your lung collapsed, your collarbone was shattered,” he recounted her injuries. “To be honest, I’ve been afraid to touch you. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I thought you were mad,” she told him, her voice unsteady, and he released a heavy sigh.

“At the son of a bitch who hurt you, yes,” he told her. “But not at you. You thought I was mad at you?” he asked her, and she nodded. “Why?”

“You barely seem able to look at me sometimes,” she told him.

“You were hurt,” he told her. “The one time you needed my protection the most, and I wasn’t there.”

“I had my whole team with me,” she reminded him. “And even they couldn’t prevent this. If you _had_ been there, if you had put yourself between me and that guy, there would be a lot of people trying to study you right now. I have seen the worst humanity has to offer, I have borne witness to people who believed they were in the right, only to see them torture and kill in the name of science. I don’t want that for you. I _never_ want anything like that to happen to you.”

He handed her the bottle of pain medicine when she offered him her bottle of Advil, and leaned forward to kiss her brow when she opened the orange bottle. As much as he tried to protect her was as much as she tried to protect him. To think that she would rather be shot in order to keep him safe than to allow him to protect her and watch him become a subject of intrigue to human scientists was both humbling and a bit troubling.

He understood now everything his brother had tried to tell him over the past several months. He could stay here with Gabby, he could settle and decide to create a life with her, ignoring the cries of the children that he had abandoned his home in Heaven for. But if he did that, he would never stop trying to protect Gabby, and she would never stop trying to protect him. And in the end, he thought, both of them would suffer for it. But to leave her now, when he knew she was vulnerable, and with a very real threat to her from the people who had been trying to stop his investigations, felt like he was inviting her to be killed.

Standing from the bed, he toed out of his shoes as he moved around to the other side and sat down. He removed his jeans and sweater before slipping beneath the covers and opening his arms to her. He waited for her to find a comfortable position, her injuries making it difficult, and arched his back slightly as he spread his wings. He kissed her brow as she settled on top of him, a breathy moan whispering from her when he wrapped his wings around her. She felt so small and completely fragile, in his arms, Gabriel thought as he smoothed his hand down over her hair, and listened to her breathing slow as she fell asleep in his arms. 

“Help me protect her, Uriel,” he prayed to his brother, the words whispered on his lips as he rested his cheek against her head. “That’s all I ask of you, brother. Just help me protect her.”

**~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~**

It was hard to be here, he thought as he moved through the endless winding halls. The stone floor was warm against his large paws, the air heated with the fires of Hell that burned so far above. He pulled in a deep breath, the air rolling back out in a low growl as he stopped walking and grew still. The walk he was on now was one he would take with Mazikeen. He would patrol beside her, listen for the souls that were trying to escape, or the ones who thought they could bargain their way out. Or he had.

Time passed differently here, slower, than it did anywhere else. For him, it had been almost two decades since Lucifer and Mazikeen had left, but he didn’t know how long it had been for them. This wasn’t a battle, there was to be no war to be had, that much he did know. In each war, each battle fought between Heaven and Hell, or more often was the case, between Lucifer and the demons that had escaped to inhabit human hosts, he and the rest of his pack would run between Lucifer and Mazikeen.

Tracker growled low as he dragged the claws of his right front paw over the stone floor, and listened to the shriek as sparks raised up from the sharpened tips of his claws. Here in Hell, his claws were as hard and sharp as metal. Nothing created on Earth could hurt him, no matter how devastating the weapon was to mortals, animal or human. He was the largest of the Hellhounds, standing almost a head taller than Hunter. It had always been Hunter, Shadow, and himself who stayed the closest to Lucifer and Mazikeen, guarding them both as they remained faithfully by their sides.

That was where he wanted to be now, Tracker thought as his jaws opened in a wide yawn, his tongue curling up as his lips pulled back to reveal deadly rows of sharp teeth. His jaws snapped together with a deafening clack seconds before his hackles rose. He braced his paws against the ground, locking his shoulders and hips into place, as he lifted his nose high into the air and took in a series of deep breaths. The temperature of the air had changed, which meant the gates of Hell had been opened. There was someone here who didn’t belong. 

Tracker snarled as he lurched ahead, breaking out into a full run with his ears folded back against his head. Barking as he alerted the others, he skidded around the corner, his claws scraping against the smooth stone as he scrambled for purchase. He wasn’t sure if one of the demons had opened the gates while trying to escape and had let something else come in, or what, but the closer he got, the stronger the scent became. 

Falling silent when he lost the trail, he skidded to a stop. Tracker’s ears swiveled back and forth as he looked for any sound that might indicate where the intruder had gone. Growling in frustration as he scrapped the claws of his paw against the floor, he edged forward and breathed in deeply. His eyes widened as his jaws fell open, his tongue hanging out to one side as he panted, and wagged his tail. He knew this scent, and it wasn’t dangerous. This scent belonged to the only being aside from Lucifer and Mazikeen that he held any affection for. Lifting his nose into the air, he howled to call off the hunt, and ran forward to greet his friend.

**~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~**

Uriel stood silent with his eyes closed as he adjusted to the change. The heat was the first thing to greet him, the fires that burned eternal hovering impossibly high above everything like furious clouds. Ash fell like snow around his feet, and he knew it would be in his hair as well. Taking in a deep breath, he released a low sigh and stepped past the warded ruins at the entrance of Hell. 

There had been a time when these ruins stood stalwart and proud, carved on the outside with elaborate wards and sigils. Lucifer had created the wards, Uriel remembered his brother telling him so himself, but that had been before the revolt. His brother had locked the worst demons in Hell inside those cages, using the wards to keep them barricaded inside. Little by little those same demons had battled their way out, whispering to humans through the dream-realm, and teaching them the rituals to allow them to take possession of them.

It was the first-time Uriel had seen Lucifer on Earth since his fall, his brother’s rage more powerful than he had ever seen. Children had been the most susceptible to the whispers of the demons, believing the rituals to be nothing more than a game. What the Heavenly host had believed to be the beginnings of a war created by Lucifer’s hands, had instead been the beginning of a revolution. Once their numbers had been enough on the outside, the possessing demons had performed a ritual on Earth that destroyed the wards that kept the others bound in Hell.

That had been the start of one of the darkest periods in human history. The possessing demons had taken great pleasure in revealing themselves to the humans, displaying feats of supernatural power, and causing the most beloved members of tight-knit communities turn on each other. There were only a few humans who had known how to defeat the demons, humans that had been visited by angels in their sleep to be taught the exorcisms that would drive the possessing demons from their human hosts. It was the only time in the history of creation that Heaven and Hell had worked together, and only because Uriel had owed his brother a favor. 

The demonic revolt had been the trigger behind the first of the witch trials, the fever continuing to spread long after the revolution had been defeated. He still remembered the hunts, the constant surge of adrenaline, and the almost dizzying pleasure of fighting an enemy stronger than himself. It had also been then when he had met Tracker. The hellhound was the largest of them all, the size of a small horse as they all were, but unlike the others he was single-minded in his hunt and couldn’t be dissuaded from his prey. 

Tracker was the one Lucifer used specifically for the demons who had escaped in physical form, the ones who didn’t need to gain their freedom by possessing a human host. It didn’t matter how long his prey eluded him, or where they took to hide, Tracker would find them and drag them back to Hell in his jaws. Uriel chuckled quietly to himself as he stepped forward, the memory of his introduction to the hellhound resurfacing with the clarity of a movie inside his mind.

_Uriel turned his head as he looked toward Lucifer, watching as his fallen brother held the human woman by her shoulders. He kept her still as his eyes glowed crimson and his face changed, a forceful demand coming from him in a mighty roar. Uriel watched as the woman’s face transformed, the demon possessing her clinging as much as it could to the human flesh, only to have its will overpowered by Lucifer’s. No one had given any thought to what had become of his brother once he had fallen from grace, and Uriel sighed as he admitted to himself that he hadn’t thought about it, either._

_He had believed his brother to simply be punishing the human souls in Hell while he reigned over the realm their father had banished him to. He hadn’t thought what a strain it was on him, or that Lucifer had more responsibilities than simply providing eternal torture to those who deserved the torment. Watching as his brother put his hand over the woman’s disfigured face and closed his eyes, Uriel took a step back, staring in morbid fascination as Lucifer spread his wings to their full extent and pulled the demon from the mortal._

_“She’ll be unconscious for a few days,” Lucifer said with a sigh, tipping his head toward the woman, before letting her fall to the ground. “I doubt she’ll remember anything.”_

_“I always thought this was your doing,” Uriel said, and met his brother’s confused frown. “The demonic possessions of the humans. I thought you were trying to corrupt the innocent.”_

_“I don’t corrupt anyone,” Lucifer denied, and Uriel could tell his brother was offended by the notion. “All I do is reveal what’s there. The demons were in Hell long before I was. I didn’t create them, and I have never ordered them to possess anyone.”_

_“And what of our brothers and sisters who fell with you?” Uriel asked, only to watch Lucifer shake his head as his eyes flashed crimson with his anger._

_“That was their doing, not mine,” he denied. “I_ asked _Father why He gave the humans free will. Our fallen brothers and sisters_ demanded _He give us free will. There is a difference. Shadow! Hunter!” he called out, and Uriel watched as the hellhounds raced to his side. “Where is Tracker?” he demanded of them, and the hellhounds lifted their muzzles into the air as they released a long low wailing howl into the air._

_There was an answering howl in the distance, followed in short order by a thunderous pounding. A scream sounded from the tree line, and they all watched as three possessed humans were driven toward them, Tracker snarling and snapping at their heels. One by one, Lucifer pulled the possessing demons from their human hosts, and drove the twisted spirits back into Hell, until there was only one demon left. Uriel waited as he watched Lucifer stand silent, his eyes closed and wings spread wide as he focused his power._

_“Be careful where you put your hand, brother,” Lucifer cautioned without opening his eyes. “Shadow is not known for giving second chances. Especially not when she’s hunting.”_

“She?” _Uriel asked with some confusion. “I thought hellhounds were all male.”_

_Lucifer grinned as he turned his attention to him. “Technically,” he said with some arrogance, “they’re genderless. But, I was curious to see how much of my divinity I still had. I took my two best and most faithful companions, Hunter,” he nodded to the hound on his left, “and Shadow,” he nodded to the hound between himself and Uriel, “and made them male and female. But Tracker is the true prize,” he said. “Tracker,” Lucifer called to the beast, and Uriel watched as the hound’s eyes glowed red. “There is one still here. One who does not belong. Hunt,” he ordered, and Uriel watched as the hellhound took off at a dead run._

_“What makes this one so special, brother?” Uriel asked, chasing after Lucifer as they watched the hellhound hunt._

_“He was an experiment,” Lucifer said, a single brow arching and falling in a shrug. “I wasn’t sure if it would work, or not, but I blessed Hunter and Shadow, and then along came Tracker.”_

_“Wait,” Uriel said as he turned to stare at his brother. “Tracker is their pup? I thought hellhounds, like demons, couldn’t breed.”_

_“They can’t,” Lucifer said with authority. “Tracker is the only hellhound to be born, and not forged in Hell’s fires.”_

Uriel shook his head as the memory faded away, and grinned as he watched the hellhound in question come running towards him. It had been centuries since he had last been anywhere near Hell, but the beast had never forgotten him, and for that he was grateful. Greeting the creature, he scratched Tracker behind his ears before grabbing onto the loose fur by his jowls and shaking the beast’s head. Tracker barked as his tail wagged harder, thumping Uriel with enough strength to unbalance him.

“Hello to you, too,” he said, and watched as the creature sat on his haunches before him. “Lucifer’s not here,” he said, and frowned. “I don’t sense him in these walls.” Tracker gave a low pitiful whine, the sound lonesome, and Uriel smiled as he petted him. “I need to ask a favor of you, my friend. There is a woman – a human – I need you to protect. Would you do this for me?”

He watched as Tracker stilled, the hellhound moving slowly as he sat on his haunches. The beast took on a regal pose as he lifted his head to meet Uriel’s gaze, his eyes glowing crimson. Uriel held the hound’s red gaze for a long moment before nodding slowly, and watched as the crimson glow faded away to reveal the rich dark gaze of the beast’s black eyes. He smiled as he watched Tracker stand, his tail wagging as his jaws dropped open in wide smile. 

“Thank you, my friend,” Uriel said, and turned as he motioned toward the ruins with his head. “Let’s go.”

**~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~**

Gabby looked up at the sound of the soft knock outside of her bedroom door, and smiled when she looked up to see Uriel standing in the hall. It had been a few days since she last saw him, and while she knew there was some kind of tension between Gabriel and his brother, she had developed a fondness for Uriel. He was like the big brother she’d never had, and angelic or not, she felt connected to him. Tipping her head, she nodded for him to come into the room, and watched as he stepped in through the open doorway. 

“Two visits in two days,” Gabby said, greeting him with a smile. “I should get shot more often,” she teased, and Uriel laughed.

“I don’t think that would be a good idea,” he teased in return, and sat on the bed beside her at her invitation. 

“Tell me,” she said, as she watched his humor fall away into a smiling pout.

“You’re hurt,” he said, and Gabby nodded.

“I’ve been hurt before. This job isn’t glamourous, or safe, but it is important,” she told him, and Uriel nodded as he looked down. “This is about Gabriel,” she said softly, certain in the accuracy of her assumption.

“Yeah, it is,” Uriel said, and looked up to meet her gaze. “You and I both know he won’t leave until he knows you’re safe. And he won’t leave you while you’re injured unless he is confident, beyond the shadow of doubt, of your protection.”

“Six months,” she said, and watched him frown in question. “That’s what the doctors and physical therapists have said as far as my recovery time. It will take at least six months before I could return to work, and even then, it would be in a limited capacity. But we both know that six months is far too long to wait. He needs to leave soon,” she said with certainty.

“Yes, he does,” Uriel agreed. “I understand his reluctance,” he told her. “I don’t like the idea of leaving you alone and unguarded, either, and certainly not while you’re injured.”

“Then we’re at an impasse,” she said with a heavy sigh.

“I think I may have a solution,” he told her with a grin, and Gabby frowned curiously.

“What kind of solution?” she asked, and Uriel’s smile widened. 

“Gabe told me how close you were with Morgan,” he reminded her, and she nodded as she frowned. “You’ve talked about him more than once, yourself. But a mortal dog won’t bring of comfort, or confidence to Gabriel, especially not after Morgan was killed trying to protect you.”

“Mortal dog?” Gabby repeated, and frowned as she found her focus drawn by his turn of phrase. 

“Close your eyes,” Uriel told her, and she arched a brow in response. “Trust me,” he asked of her, and she sat silently as she closed her eyes. “First impressions can be a little daunting,” he cautioned her with a touch of humor. “Tracker,” he called out, and Gabby sat up as much as her injuries would allow. “With you, Gabby, Tracker will be very gentle. He will comfort you, protect you, and support you. If you are lost, he will find you, no matter where you are. If you are ever in danger, he will make absolutely certain to keep you safe.”

“Did you get me a Navy Seal?” she asked in jest, and Uriel chuckled.

“A Navy Seal has nothing on Tracker. He would make the fiercest of your armed forces look like nothing but children,” he promised her. “But he can also be gentle enough to guard and comfort a newborn babe. This is the duality of the hellhound. To an innocent soul, like yourself, they are absolute in their protection and care of you. To a dark soul, to one who would do you harm, they are more dangerous than anything you can imagine.”

“Does he look different?” she asked, and gasped when a cold wet nose touched her hand. “Hi there,” she greeted, and cautiously turned her hands as she lifted them to trace her fingers over his muzzle and head. “He’s so soft,” she praised, and smiled when he nosed closer to her. “Careful there, big guy,” she cautioned Tracker. “I’m still healing.”

Tracker whined low, a sound that was both sad and confused. She understood the sound from all the time she had spent with Morgan. He didn’t understand why she was hurt, and didn’t know what to do. Grimacing as she leant forward, she felt his head lift in her hands, and smiled when he came closer for her to rest her brow against his. 

“Ok,” Uriel said as she sat back. “Open your eyes.”

Gabby blinked as her vision adjusted to the creature in front of her. At first, all she saw was a mass of black, but as the seconds passed she began to make out his form. Her eyes widened at his size, unable to believe that the creature she saw was real. He stood as high as a horse, larger than any dog she’d ever seen. She was fairly certain she could ride him if she was ever of a mind to.

“He won’t take a saddle,” Uriel chuckled, and she looked up to meet his gaze. “The way you were staring at him.”

“That’s why you wanted me to close my eyes,” she said as she turned her attention back to Tracker. “I would’ve been afraid of you if I had seen you first with my eyes,” she told the beast, and smiled softly when he gave her a whining yip. “You remind me so much of Morgan,” she whispered, tears swimming in her eyes.

Tracker whined as he bumped his nose against her cheek, and she smiled through her tears as she hugged his giant head to her. She didn’t notice the movement when Uriel stood from the bed, or see him smile at her from the doorway before he left, but when she looked up, she found him gone. Gabby smiled as she scratched Tracker behind his pointed ears, and laughed softly when they swiveled like small satellite dishes. 

“Think you can help me over there, big guy?” she asked, and nodded to the private bathroom across the room.

Tracker gave a low chuffing growl as he moved his body so that he was facing toward the end of the bed. He was angled due to his large size, his shoulder near enough to Gabby that she was able to rest her arm on his back as she stood slowly from the bed. She hissed as she grabbed her left side with her right arm, and choked back a whimper as she breathed deeply against the pain her movement inspired. The stitches still pulled, both inside and out, the surgeries made more extensive due to the way the bullets had fractured inside of her.

“I’m ok,” she said softly, her voice pained. “Gabriel keeps trying to get me to take the pain medicine, but I don’t want to be dependent on it,” she told him as he steadied her while they walked slowly across the room. “I’m scared,” she confessed to the hellhound, her voice trembling as she sniffed back her tears. Tracker growled low as he turned his head to look at her. “I’ve been shot before, but this time was really close. The doctor told me what Gabriel wouldn’t,” she told him. “I died twice.”

She watched as Tracker’s eyes glowed red, the light there and gone in a few seconds. He had looked fierce to her, deadly, and she remembered what Uriel had told her. He would be unwavering in his protection of her, and dangerous beyond imagining to those who sought to do her harm. Catching herself when her knee gave way, she closed her eyes against the pain the movement inspired, and felt Tracker move in front of her. He bent down halfway, and as she opened her eyes, he nudged his head against her side until she followed his silent direction and climbed onto his back.

“Thank you,” she whispered to the beast as she petted his fur, and met his gaze when he turned his head to look at her. 

She smiled when he licked her cheek, and laughed softly when he stopped in front of the bathroom door. The distance may not have been very far, but with her injuries pulling at her the way they did, and the weakness she felt at the pain, the journey felt impossibly long. Tracker moved slowly, making sure that she was kept balanced as he laid down on the floor, and Gabby smiled sadly as she stepped off of her stead. Petting his head in thanks, she stepped into the bathroom and closed the door until it was almost latched. As much as she wanted a bath, the doctor had cautioned her against anything more than a shower until she had more time to heal. 

Taking care of her bodily needs before washing her hands, she caught herself on the towel rack as she felt her balance give way again, and knew that she wouldn’t be able to stand on her own in the shower. This was the part she hated most, the weakness of her muscles and soreness throughout her body that made it almost impossible to be independent. As much as she wanted to rely on herself, she knew that she wasn’t strong enough to yet. 

“Tracker,” she called out softly, and watched as he nosed the door open. “I don’t know how much of you can fit in here,” she told him as she looked at the bathroom. She had once believed this room to be lavish and grand, but when Tracker stepped inside the doorway it looked terribly small. “I want to take a shower, but I don’t trust my balance,” she told him, and watched as he stepped immediately to her side. “You understand a lot more than a normal dog does, don’t you?” she asked, and laughed when his jaws dropped open in a wide toothy smile, his tongue hanging out over the side. “I know that look,” she told him with a grin. “I’ll make you some bacon later.”

Tracker sat patiently beside the tub as Gabby disrobed, and started the water for her shower. She turned back to him with a frown when he growled low, the sound angry, and watched with wide eyes as he reached out slowly to gently touch the tip of his nose to the bullet wound low on her side. She looked down at the wound before nodding her agreement that she wasn’t happy with the wound, either. Reaching out to him, she smiled tremulously when he dipped his nose down to bop her hand up.

“I’m ok, big guy,” she assured him, and smiled tiredly as she pulled the curtain back to step beneath the warm spray. “I’m scared as hell, but I’m ok.”

It was almost an hour later when Tracker helped Gabby walk back to the bed, her movements getting slower with each step. She knew that she wouldn’t tire as easily if she took the pain medication, but she both worried about becoming dependent on them, and hated how clouded they made her mind. She couldn’t string two coherent thoughts together when she took them, and although Gabriel had told her he found her adorable when she was medicated, she couldn’t stand to be that out of it. 

Blinking tiredly as fell slowly to sit on the bed, she moved to the other side of the bed, and patted the blankets without thinking about the size of the animal. The bed groaned beneath his weight, even as it accepted him easily, and Gabby blinked slowly as she curled against his side. She felt the soft thumps as he wagged his tail gently against the bed, and closed her eyes as she felt Tracker nuzzle her cheek softly before laying his head next to hers. For the first time since she had woken in the hospital, sleep came to her easily.

**~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~**

“You look lost.”

Gabriel released an amused breath as he looked up at the man standing across from him on the steps. He turned his head back down to the stone steps he was seated on, his elbows resting on his knees. Flexing the fingers of his left hand, he took in a deep breath, and looked up when the man sat next to him. He was certain that any dirt would show up as grey dust on the man’s black suit, the priest’s dark clothing pristine and unwrinkled. 

“Sometimes, Father,” Gabriel said to the man, “I think I know exactly what I’m doing. And other times . . . “ He fell silent as he shook his head. 

“Perhaps I could help,” the priest said, and Gabriel turned his head to meet his gaze. “Would you care to come inside? I could make us some tea, and we could talk more,” he offered, and Gabriel nodded.

“That would nice, Father, thank you,” he said, and stood from the steps before reaching out to help the middle-aged human from his seat.

Gabriel wasn’t certain how old the man was, somewhere between his mid-forties and early-sixties would be his guess. Working with Gabby and her team had taught him that it could be difficult to judge the age of people, especially a man of his descent. What was it Gabby had said, he asked himself, and nodded as he grinned in amusement. Ah yes, she had told him there was a certain jealousy to be had of those from Native American and African descent. Both nationalities seemed to be blessed with a timeless beauty. 

“Do you play?” the priest asked, and Gabriel looked up with a frown, only to realize he’d been caught staring at the piano.

“No,” he said with a sigh. “My brother does,” he said with a nod. “Sammy could take the most broken down piano and make it sing with the most beautiful voice.”

“You miss him,” the priest observed, and Gabriel nodded.

“Yeah,” Gabriel admitted, his voice tight. “We were as close as brothers could be. We got separated a long time ago.”

Gabriel looked up at the cathedral around him, frowning curiously at how empty it seemed. The gilded accoutrements that normally decorated the alter were missing. In fact, almost everything was missing, he noticed. Only the piano and pews remained. 

“She’s a sad sight to see,” the priest said, and Gabriel turned to look at him. “Personally, I don’t believe a church should ever close their doors, but this one will be empty and locked tight come tomorrow morning.”

“Why?” Gabriel asked, and followed the man to the back of the church. “Does no one come here anymore?” he asked, watching as the man went to an open box on the counter to pull out a teapot and box of bagged tea.

“People used to come all the time,” he said as he filled the kettle, and set it on the stove to boil. “But after a while, they stopped coming. I’ve accepted a position with a church in Los Angeles. It’ll be nice to be back home. I haven’t been back there since my daughter died,” he confessed. “I ran as far away as possible, and found myself here in D.C.”

“You had a family before this?” Gabriel asked curiously, and smiled when the man laughed.

“No one’s born a priest.” He sighed as he looked out toward the sanctuary. “There was a time that I was just Frank Lawrence, traveling musician. I had some wild days,” he said, and chuckled as his gaze fell to the floor. “And I’ve had some unbelievably dark days. But we’re not here to talk about me,” he said, and turned to the kettle when it began to whistle. “What has you conflicted?” he asked, and Gabriel’s eyes widened as he took in a deep breath.

“I . . . left my home,” he hedged. “I had a purpose, a clear vision of what I was going to do and why I was doing it. My family didn’t understand. Sometimes, I think they chose not to understand. Maybe it made it easier for them somehow,” he said, and nodded his thanks as he accepted the cup of dark tea from Father Frank. “Along the way things got . . . complicated.”

“I know that look,” Father Frank said, and Gabriel nodded as he laughed.

“I’ve never known anyone like her. She’s beautiful and fearless and passionate and so . . .” Gabriel released a heavy sigh as he sipped at the steaming fragrant tea. “I’m happy with her. Happier than I deserve to be,” he admitted, and took in a deep breath as he set his cup down on the table top. 

“But the reason you left home, it’s still there, tugging at you. Isn’t it?” the priest asked, and Gabriel nodded. “What’s holding you back?”

“To do one is to give up the other,” Gabriel said. “Either, I go after the reason I left in the first place, or I stay with her. Each choice comes with its own downfall. About a month ago, I was ready to leave. She’d given me the strength to.”

“But you stayed,” Frank said, and Gabriel nodded.

“She was in danger, and then she was shot,” Gabriel said painfully. “She’s an FBI agent, and the man she was chasing shot her three times. She even had a dog with her. He was trained to defend her, and when he tried, he was killed. Leaving now, I feel like . . .”

“Like you’re leaving her to die,” Frank said, and Gabriel nodded as he felt his eyes sting with tears as rage filled his heart. 

“How can I abandon her?” he asked of the man sitting next to him. “How can I leave her knowing the danger she’s in? Knowing that she will be unprotected.”

“You won’t truly be abandoning her,” Father Frank reasoned. “It is the year two thousand eleven, after all. There are such things as FaceTime and Skype, and email. You’ll still be able to reach her, you simply won’t be next to her.”

“I don’t know how to let her go,” Gabriel confessed, pain and uncertainty in his voice. “I never thought I’d ever meet anyone like her. She showed me a world I never knew. She gave me so much more than I ever thought possible and she never . . . she never asked for anything in return.”

Father Frank sighed as he nodded, a smile tipping his lips. “I know what you mean,” he said. “When she was alive, my wife was an incredible woman. She had the power to make you hope, even in times when it seemed pointless to try. Even at the end, she was the bravest person I knew.”

“What happened to her?” Gabriel asked, watching the man curiously.

“Ovarian cancer,” Father Frank said. “We discovered it when she was seven months along with our daughter. The pregnancy was rougher on her than it should have been. The doctors weren’t even sure how she got pregnant considering.”

“Your daughter was a blessing,” Gabriel said, knowing the truth of his statement. 

“I would have been lost without her,” Frank said as he nodded. “That little angel of mine inspired some amazing music.” Gabriel nodded, and met Frank’s gaze when he looked up at him. “This decision can only be made by you,” the man told him. “Follow your heart, and whatever else may come will fall into place.”

Gabriel nodded as he looked down into his mug. It was sound advice, he supposed, the only problem was that his heart was torn. It felt as though he was in a war with himself. He knew where he was needed, but where he was needed wasn’t where he wanted to be. He frowned as he laughed at himself, the sound short and humorless. He realized then what had been holding him back. Fear.

“I’m afraid,” he said, his voice soft and wonderstruck by the revelation.

“We all are at some point,” Father Frank told him sagely. “But just remember: Being brave has nothing to do with not being afraid. Bravery is about what you do in spite of the fear you feel.”

Gabriel looked down into his mug as he considered the priest’s words, and watched as the light reflected off the deep brown of the Irish Breakfast tea in his mug. He looked up when the man began to speak about his daughter, and smiled as he listened to the stories of her infant years. It was another of his gifts, one Gabby had yet to fully experience. As safe as he made children feel was as proud and loving as he made their parents feel. People couldn’t help but tell him about their children, the love and amazement they found in them. 

He closed his eyes as he let the man’s words wash over him, the stories he told coming to life behind his eyes as he aligned himself with the man’s soul. The love the priest held for his late daughter was deep and powerful. He felt the hypnotic abyss of the man’s love for his child, the selflessness and supportiveness that gave the girl strength and comfort. And long moments later, he felt the aching despair of the loss he had felt when her life had been taken in the car accident. The accident hadn’t been Father Frank’s fault, but in his words, Gabriel knew the man still blamed himself for losing his daughter. 

Another hour passed before Gabriel left the church, his conversation with Father Frank leaving him both torn and renewed. It was time, he thought as he walked down the sidewalk, his steps slow as he made his way back to the house he shared with Gabby. There was a part of him that still didn’t want to leave, but now, after all that had been spoken between him and the priest, he remembered why he had left Heaven in the first place.

Gabby had given him hope. She had taught him how to separate himself out from the pain and cries of the children. He knew she had done it to ease his pain, and was thankful for all she had given him, but it was time now to open himself up again. Closing his eyes as he slipped into the shadows of the trees near him, Gabriel spread his wings and let down the barriers he had learned to build. 

The voices of the children came to him in a wave, growing more powerful each moment until he finally felt no separation from them at all. There were children near him that he could hear praying for their siblings and parents, others that he could hear laughing as they celebrated so many different things, and underneath it all, was the sound of the children crying out to be saved. The ones who were trapped in abusive homes, those who were scared and cold, living on the streets because it was safer than being at home, and others still who had no home to remember aside from the darkness of an underground city of the homeless. 

Little by little, other voices came to him in whispers and shadows. The children who had been taken away, the ones who would give anything just to go home again. Among them, one voice came to him the strongest, and he grabbed hold of the link as he smiled sadly. 

“I haven’t forgotten about you, Sophia,” he spoke softly to her with conviction. “I’m sorry it’s been so long. I’m back now, and I’m on my way.”

**~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~**

Gabriel’s steps slowed as he came to a stop in front of the house he shared with Gabby. The bedroom light was still on upstairs, and he frowned as he looked down at his watch. It was nearing midnight. He hadn’t meant to be out so late, but he was home now, he thought as he walked up the steps to the front door. He only hoped she hadn’t been waiting up for him.

He frowned curiously as he opened the door and stepped inside. There was another presence inside the home, something inhuman, but not exactly threatening. He couldn’t tell what it was, all he knew was what it wasn’t. It wasn’t angelic, and it wasn’t demonic. It wasn’t there to destroy, but it was there for a purpose. The house felt protected, guarded, and he didn’t know exactly why, but the energy felt familiar.

He moved up the stairs slowly, knowing that if he covered the distance too quickly he would come off as a threat to whatever creature was there. Taking in a deep breath as he came to a stop outside of the bedroom he shared with her, he reached for the handle and opened the door slowly. His worry abated as he released a silent chuckle and shook his head. Uriel had promised him he would make certain Gabby was protected, and Gabriel nodded to himself as he admitted that his brother had done just that.

“A hellhound, huh?” he said, and watched as the giant creature on the bed lifted its massive head to look at him. “You’ve been assigned to protect her?” he asked, and watched as the hound’s eyes glowed red. “That’s a yes,” he said as he stepped forward. “I wonder what kind of a deal Uriel had to broker with Sammy to get you,” he said, and watched as the hound’s ears swiveled back and forth.

“Tracker,” Gabby called out, her voice muffled and subdued. 

“Hey,” Gabriel greeted, as he walked around the bed to sit next to Gabby. “Looks like you’ve got a new friend,” he told her, and watched as she smiled up at him drowsily, her eyes almost closed.

“He’s a good boy,” she told him softly as she groaned, and rolled to lie on her back. “Uriel said he can find me no matter where I go.”

“That’s right,” Gabriel confirmed, and reached out to smooth her hair back from her face. “Hellhounds track souls, not scents. It doesn’t matter where you are, if you run, or if you’ve been abducted, he’ll find you.”

“Souls?” she asked tiredly, and blinked as she began to wake more. “So, no training him for ordinance detection?” she asked, her tone only half joking.

“I don’t think so,” Gabriel answered with a chuckle. “Though I don’t know how strong their olfactory senses are. He may have just as good scent tracking as a bloodhound, or a wolf.”

“But you don’t know?” she asked, and he watched her smile when Tracker laid his head in her lap. 

“Hellhounds are only on earth when an evil soul or demon escapes Hell. They’re released to hunt those souls and demons down and drag them back to Hell,” he told her. “You’ve already spoiled him, haven’t you?”

“I’m not spoiling him!” Gabby protested with a frown. “I haven’t even given him any bacon yet, and he’s probably hungry. We’ve just been napping together, haven’t we?” she asked Tracker, and Gabriel shook his head when the hellhound released a sing-song whine as he nuzzled her hand.

“Oh yeah, he’s spoiled already,” Gabriel said, and chuckled at the disgruntled look on Gabby’s face. 

“He’s my baby,” Gabby told him as she pushed herself up into a seated position. “He’s actually pretty great,” she said, and smoothed her hand over Tracker’s head, petting his fur slowly. “He’s helped me walk to the bathroom, and up and down the stairs.” She chuckled softly as she bit her lip. “When I got tired earlier, he let me ride on his back. He takes care of me,” she told him, and he nodded as he looked down at the beast. “Now,” Gabby said, and Gabriel looked up to meet her gaze. “Talk to me. D.B. called almost five hours ago, to say you were on your way home, and that the case you helped the team on was a bad one. What happened?”

Gabriel released a huff of amusement, the sound humorless as he offered a pained smile and looked down at the blankets. He hadn’t wanted to bring this home to her. That’s why he had wandered for so long, he’d needed to get the memories out of his head, or at least pushed down enough in the back of his mind that he wasn’t thinking about them. He should have known D.B. would call her though. This was their world, he thought as he smiled when she wrapped her hand around his, he was only beginning to learn all that there was.

“Your team couldn’t get close to the guy,” he told her as he looked up to meet her gaze. “They asked for my help. You know better than anyone that I can talk to people, question them, without a need for a warrant, or probable cause,” he said, and watched her nod. “He was a doctor, a fairly successful one by anyone’s standards. He said he thought he was saving people, that he was making advancements others wouldn’t because they were too bound by the falsehoods of morality.”

“And in your opinion?” Gabby asked him when he fell silent. “What was he?”

“A monster,” Gabriel said, and closed his eyes as he bowed his head. “He kept . . . ranting, saying that a woman’s body was made to take pain, made to be resilient to it, and that only they could be his test subjects. He was torturing them, Gabby,” he told her, and looked up when she held his cheek in her hand. “I have never wanted to harm someone before, not like that, not before him.” He fell silent as he shook his head, anger flashing in his eyes for a second before he pushed the emotion. “I didn’t want to bring this home to you,” he confessed.

“This job can tear you down,” she told him wisely. “D.B. was worried when he called. He said he’d never seen you that angry. This job, my job, the cases you’re looking into . . . Gabriel, we are fighting monsters, day in and day out. It will make you question everything, and it will make you see the darkness in yourself, but you can’t let that darkness define you. What’s that quote? Whoever fights monsters should see to it that in the process he does not become a monster.”

“You’re stronger than I am,” he told her, and looked down.

He heard her sigh, the sound both affirming and amused. She tipped his head up to see his eyes, and he frowned at the look in her eyes. His lips curled in a smile when she brought him close for a kiss, and he leaned into her touch when she swept his hair from his eyes.

“Oh, Gabriel, it’s ok,” she promised him, and kissed his brow.

“What is?” he asked with a shake of his head, and Gabby smiled.

‘It’s in your eyes,” she told him with a smile. “You’re ready to go.”

“Gabby, you’re –“

“Hey,” she interrupted him softly, silencing his protest. “I’ve got Tracker here,” she told him, and he looked at the hellhound snoozing lightly next to her, his head on her lap. “He won’t let anything hurt me. He helps me around, and I’m fairly certain I could find a way to get him to go to work with me,” she told him with a grin.

“Hellhounds can hide themselves from human sight,” Gabriel told her, and watched Gabby tip her head in curiosity. “Tracker,” he called to the hellhound, and met the animal’s dark gaze when he looked up without moving his head. “Disappear,” he gave the command.

Gabriel watched as Tracker’s eyes glowed red in acknowledgement of the command. Seconds later, ribbons of black rose around Tracker’s body, hiding the beast in shadows until he disappeared completely from view. Gabby looked at the bed next to her with wide eyes, her arm that had been resting on Tracker’s back appearing to float in midair. She could still feel him next to her, but the bed did not appear to be depressed at all by his weight. She looked up at Gabriel, and he smiled at her confusion.

“You can still feel him, right?” he asked her, and watched her nod, her eyes wide with wonder. “Call to him, command him to show himself.”

He watched her frown in confusion as she looked down. “Tracker,” Gabby called out, her tone commanding, but uncertain. “Show yourself.”

Seconds later the area on the bed next to her dipped down, the blankets showing the place when Tracker’s body was laying before ribbons of black appeared in mid-air. The ribbons of shadow curled around his form, appearing to outline the great beast next to her before they seemed to sink into and become part of his fur. His thick tail thumped against the bed as his eyes glowed red, the crimson light fading away in the span of a heartbeat. The hellhound’s jaws opened in a wide smile, his tongue flopping down as he panted happily. 

Gabby shook her head as she laughed. “Now, you look like a puppy. A _giant_ puppy,” she amended with a laugh, “but still a puppy.”

“You gave him a command,” Gabriel told her with a grin. “To him, it means you’ve accepted him as your protector. He knows you’ll call on him now.”

“But I’ve called on him before, when I was in the shower,” she said with confusion, and Gabriel chuckled.

“But you didn’t _command_ him,” he pointed out, and she smiled with amused wonder.

“Hellhounds are a little different, aren’t they?” she asked, and Gabriel nodded as he smiled.

“Just a little,” he agreed with a grin.

“When are you leaving?” Gabby asked, and Gabriel shrugged.

“I haven’t booked anything yet,” he answered with a sigh, and held up a hand when she looked ready to protest. “Just give me one more night with you, Gabby,” he asked of her. “I’ll book the flight tomorrow morning, but I just need one more night. Can you give me that?”

“One night to say goodbye,” she said with a slow nod, her eyes glistening with the tears she tried to hide. “I can do that,” she whispered.

“One night,” he agreed, and leaned close to kiss her.

She repeated the time in a whisper, and he held her close as he felt her begin to tremble. She may be losing her angel, he thought, but she was gaining a hellhound. Tracker was fiercer than he was, more indestructible, too. He was ready to leave, Gabriel thought as he pulled back to look into her eyes, but he wasn’t ready to say goodbye. Kissing her lips as he held her close, he felt her hands frame his face. She whispered his name over and over, like a prayer, or a mantra, he wasn’t certain which. He kissed her gently as she pressed closer to him, her passion rising, and though he feared he would only be making the pain of her injuries worse, he knew this was her goodbye.


	28. Chapter 27 "Sophia" companion chapter to "A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes"

AN: Lucifer and all recognizable characters belong to Jerry Bruckheimer and FOX television. Set post 'Take Me Back to Hell'. . (Written prior to the start of season 2.)

 

Summary: There is only one thing that can make an immortal vulnerable, only one thing that can hurt an angel aside from another angel - their mate. It was only a rumor, a baseless myth, something Amenadiel had never believed, until it happened to Lucifer.

**Memento Mori**

Chapter 27

**_“Sophia”_ **

The companion chapter to "A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes"

by WhisperingWolf

The blankets moved over her in a subtle wave as she lifted her arm from beneath the covers. She released a heavy sigh as she stared at the ceiling above her head, and dropped her forearm across her brow. There was no reason for her to be awake, no appointment she had to keep, or shift she had to get to. Olivia turned her head to look at the window, her eyes blinking in the fading darkness. Even the sky was reluctant to wake up, the clouds a mix of periwinkle and grey. 

She closed her eyes as her lips folded in between her teeth, and bit down on the soft flesh. There was a part of her that wanted to forget the case, to brush everything from her mind, and find some way to believe that Sophia wasn’t really here in L.A. The pain of missing her, of believing her daughter to be dead was so much easier to handle than this aching hope that the girl she’d seen at the school really was her daughter. 

Taking in a deep breath, Olivia released the air slowly, her cheeks puffing out as she fought for a calm she didn’t feel. All her life she had separated herself from her emotions, finding it easier to feel them at a distance than to open herself up to the insanity of their true depth. But then her daughter had come along, and suddenly the distance she had placed between herself and what she felt was no longer there. Shaking her head as she sat up, she gave up on the idea of getting back to sleep, and stood from her bed. 

Her eyes narrowed on the tall dresser across from her bed, her attention focused on the black button near the bottom of the stand of her flat screen television. She didn’t know why she was staring at it, or what about it bothered her, but something about it wasn’t right. It had always been there, she thought as she stepped closer, and narrowed her eyes as her vision blurred with the memory. 

_Olivia looked back over her shoulder, and shook her head in amusement as she watched Melissa lift the forty-two-inch television out of the U-Hal box. The TV itself wasn’t terribly heavy, but it was awkward, especially for her five-foot-three friend. Turning back to look at the box sitting on her bed, she lifted out the tarnished photo frame and studied the image held inside. It was one of the last pictures she had of her family together, she and her husband holding their daughter in between them on a carriage ride. They had never stopped loving each other, she thought, it had just become difficult to look at each other every day when they knew their daughter was gone._

_“Ow! Son of a bitch!” Melissa cursed, and Olivia snapped her attention back to the woman behind her._

_“You ok’ ‘Lis?” she asked, watching as her friend lifted the television up to sit on top of the dresser._

_“Yeah,” she said with a heavy sigh. “That stupid screw cap came off when I was lifting it, there was a rough edge on the plastic is all. TV’s fine.”_

“The screw cap,” Olivia whispered to herself as she stepped closer to the TV. “The screw cap has been gone since I moved in,” she said as she covered it with the pad of her thumb, and pried it off of the TV stand. “Oh, you sons of bitches,” she whispered in horrified anger as she stared at the micro-button cam in her hands. “How long have you people been watching me?” she asked with a low growl before wrapping the camera in a tissue. 

She shook her head as she moved around the room, her eyes scanning the familiar knick-knacks and furniture as though it were a crime scene. Nothing looked out of place, but she didn’t trust herself to be certain. The camera she had found moments ago could have been there for months, and she’d been oblivious to it. There could be other cameras, or listening devices. Closing her eyes as she nodded to herself, Olivia took hold of her emotions and pushed them down deep. Getting upset over the betrayal she felt at being put under surveillance only served to distract her from finding all the devices and looking for the source. They wanted her off balance, and that was something she couldn’t afford to be.

Olivia knew she needed to talk to Gabriel about this. If her house had been put under surveillance, there was a good chance he was being watched, too. He would need to check his office, his car – if he had one, and his bags and jacket. There was more than one place to plant a bug, and sometimes the best place was on the mark themselves. And coffee, she thought as she got dressed and left her room, she needed a giant bucket of coffee.

She bit her lip as she came to the bottom of the stairs, her eyes falling on the man lying back on the couch asleep. A small affectionate grin twisted her lips up to one side as she stepped quietly toward him and slipped the open file, lying face down on his chest, out from beneath his hands. She must be getting soft in her old age, Olivia told herself as she set the file down on the coffee table and reached for the throw blanket on the back of the couch. Covering Gabriel with the cloth, she let her eyes linger on his face, marveling at how relaxed and young he looked as he slept. 

He wouldn’t be here sharing her house with her, if it hadn’t been for one perfect moment of weakness on her part that she had yet to regret. After weeks of running into him, both on the case and off, she had invited him for a home cooked meal. It had been a simple dish of enchiladas and white wine; and they had talked about everything from Sophia, to the case as it was now, to where Gabriel was staying in LA. She had learned then that he was staying in a hotel, and while the place wasn’t overly expensive, it wasn’t cheap, either. She hadn’t even realized she’d made the offer for him to stay with her, until he had smiled shyly and nodded his thanks. 

It had only been three days since he had been there with her, and she had learned almost immediately of his near-insomniac sleeping patterns. The guest room she had prepared for him upstairs sat empty most nights, the man preferring to spread out the files and notes he worked with on the coffee table, or in the kitchen. But what struck her the most, was how he seemed to anticipate her needs. There was always a fresh pot of coffee brewing when she made her way downstairs in the morning before heading to work, and she always found her electric kettle to be boiling with water with a cup and bag of tea next to it on the counter waiting for her. How he knew her patterns, she wasn’t sure, but it was a small comfort in the face of all the uncertainty that surrounded them with the case.

It had to be some kind of fanciful notion, she thought, but she couldn't deny how much safer she felt knowing that he would be there with her. Ever since seeing Chloe's face, and learning the detective had been attacked inside the precinct, she'd been a little more on edge. Stepping out of the house, she locked the door, and reached for the keys to her rental car. In a moment of unbridled paranoia, she had gone down to the car rental near the airport, and rented a small four door Ford. The car she normally drove had been picked up by Special Agent Grace last night, and today, he and his team would be pulling it apart to look for any bugs, or tracking devices.

Turning her eyes up to the periwinkle sky, she released a deep sigh, and shook her head. She was letting the case get to her, she told herself. First her car, and now the small device she carried in her pocket. She was only doing this to assure herself that she was being foolish, at least that's what she'd been telling herself since she paid cash for the device two days ago. The more she tried to convince herself that there was nothing to worry about, the more she felt that she would learn how wrong she was. Pinching the bridge of her nose, she opened the door and slipped behind the wheel of the car.

The sun had only barely crested over the horizon when she stepped into the precinct. By her own schedule, she wasn't expected in for at least four more hours, but sleep had long since abandoned her. Her steps were slow as she moved through the bullpen, her eyes scanning across the mostly empty desks, as she made her way to her office and closed herself inside. She lowered the blinds, before turning the stick to close them. Standing silent, she fisted her hands at her sides, and closed her eyes and took in a deep breath to calm the rising anxiety she felt. 

This was her place of work. It was where she spent most of her time. Hell, she had a blanket, a pillow, and a rolled up futon mattress in the closet because of how many nights she had stayed here instead of going home. She talked with the people here more than she did her own mother. Still, she couldn't shake the feeling that they were watching her every move.

Olivia sighed as she looked around her office. She could understand now how Chloe felt. The sense of being hunted, the suspicion of everyone around you, the unshakeable paranoia that wouldn't leave her alone, not even in her own home. The only thing that brought her any modicum of comfort was knowing that Gabriel was there with her now, she wasn’t alone anymore. Reaching into her pocket, she felt the small device she had tucked away inside, and flipped the switch with her thumb to activate it. Seconds later her cell phone showed 'No Signal' across the top. She reached for her desk phone, and smiled slightly when she found it to be dead as well.

When Chloe had first revealed the discovery she had made about Sophia to her, she had warned her that her office might be bugged. She hadn't wanted to believe it, but the more time that passed, the less the suspicion of it would leave her alone. It was true that the bulk of this investigation was being handled by Chloe, and she was grateful, now more than ever before, that her detective had Lucifer there to protect her. What if she hadn't had anyone to go to, she thought. What if when Chloe had been attacked and there had been no one for her to turn to for safety? 

Closing her eyes as she forced the thoughts away, she refocused her attention on the task at hand. Too many times of late, she had found her mind wandering in a similar direction. There was a sense, an almost fear, that if Chloe had been alone and without support, it would be her fault. After all, Olivia thought, when Chloe had first presented her with the belief that Malcolm had been dirty, she hadn't believed her. She had let her spin her wheels on the investigation, though, and in the end, it had made one of her best detectives one of the most hated people on the force.

"Stop it," Olivia whispered to herself, and released a heavy sigh.

Lifting her hand to her face, she gripped her temples between her middle finger and thumb as she took in a deep calming breath. She didn't have a lot of time for searching here. If she wanted to keep those looking into her from knowing that she had been the one to find the bugs, she had to be quick about it. Dropping her hand to her side, she turned around and looked at her office. There weren't many places that one could hide a bug, at least not many places that would be advantageous. 

She gave a harsh hateful laugh as her eyes moved to the one place in the room that had the best vantage point. There was a clear line of sight to her desk, and if there was a microphone attached, it would have the best possibility of grabbing the whispered conversations that would occasionally take place. The fact that the object in question was a framed picture of the last day she had seen her daughter before she'd been taken, only made her that much angrier. 

Taking the photo off the shelf, she turned the frame over before carefully dismantling it. Hidden in the top right corner where a glass gem was supposed to be, was a tiny button camera. She ground her teeth together as she pried it loose from the frame and wrapped it in tape. While the tape wouldn't turn it off, it would blind the camera and muffle any associated microphone. Setting the camera aside, she returned to the photo to its frame, and replaced it on the shelf. 

The cord that was attached to a wireless microphone had been carefully pushed through the frame and curled back behind the picture. This device wasn't cheap, and it wasn't an amateur model, either. It was professional grade, federal level, or better. She narrowed her eyes on the device as she pried it loose from the frame, and set it aside before reexamining every inch of the frame and photo to make certain she hadn't missed anything. Returning the photo of herself, her late husband, and her five-year-old daughter to its frame, she replaced it on the shelf. 

She needed to put the bug somewhere that it would be blocked from getting any signal out, or hearing anything that was going on. Her eyes widened with cheer as she realized that she had yet to throw away the empty Altoids tin in her purse. The metal would disrupt the signal, and the tight case would keep it sealed from sound. Digging the mints case from her purse, she dropped the bugs inside, and closed the top.

If there were two bugs on just one photo frame, she told herself, there would be more in other locations. No one willing to go to enough trouble to plant listening devices in her office would be foolish enough to use only one vantage point. Reaching for the ceramic vase of silk flowers, she removed the decorative flowers, and set them aside, only for her eyes to catch something on the bottom of the red dahlia. There, tucked between the green cup that extended from the stem, and the silk pieces that made up the petals of the flower, was a tiny microphone. 

These bastards were smart, she thought, as she removed the bug and tucked it away with the other one into the tin. She closed her eyes when she found the fourth device on the bottom of the vase. Another microphone, another piece of evidence that she wasn't safe in the one place she should feel the safest. She removed it carefully, and dropped it into the tin with the others before snapping it shut. Placing the silk flowers back in the vase she put it back on the shelf next to the photo frame.

Where else, she asked herself. She checked her desk lamp next and found a small button camera attached inside the curve of the metal shade. It was in the perfect spot to avoid being blinded by the bulb, and be able to watch her unseen. She found another microphone inside the handset of her desk phone, and just when she thought she might be done, she remembered the air vent above her desk. Closing her eyes, she stood from her chair and pushed it back out of the way before slipping out of her low heels.

Climbing up carefully, she rose to her knees before moving to stand on top of her desk. Reaching for the air vent above her, Olivia carefully unscrewed the small bolts with her thumbnail, and caught the metal cover as it swung down to open. She shook her head, tears of anger and betrayal stinging behind her eyes as she reached for the GoPro camera sitting inside the hidden space. How long had these people been watching her? What were they looking for her to do? And _who the hell_ were these people? Replacing the vent, she secured it back in place, and dropped the three bugs she had collected into the tin with the others before wrapping the camera in a scarf she carried in her purse. 

Was she daring enough to believe these were the only bugs? Could she take the chance that there weren't others? And if her office phone had been bugged, could she trust that someone hadn't gotten hold of her phone and cloned it? Sitting down behind her desk, Olivia rested her elbows on the wooden surface, and dropped her head into her hands. If they had bugged her office, then it stood to reason that they had placed more bugs in her home than the single one she had found. Whoever was doing this could easily be watching her every move, and even listening to her phone conversations. Was this what Chloe had been feeling for the past few months, she wondered. This sense of constantly being in danger, was this what had made her seem so stressed, she asked herself. Shaking her head, she reached into her jacket pocket and turned off the signal jammer. 

Olivia took in a deep breath as she stood from her desk and grabbed the Altoids tin containing the bugs along with the cloth-wrapped camera next to it. Tucking the items into her purse, she left her office. If anyone needed her they would call her cell phone, but she couldn't be in this place right now. All the times she had thought Chloe was being overly cautious, or not being a team player, only to now discover that the truth was so very different. It took every ounce of willpower she had to look calm and unaffected as she waited for the elevator. 

"Hey, I was just coming to see you," Gabriel said when the elevator doors opened, and Olivia felt a wave of relief wash over her as she stepped into the elevator with him.

"I was on my way out," she responded, and watched him reach out to press the button for the garage. 

"You look upset," he observed, his tone turning the statement into a question.

"Remember what Chloe told us?" she asked him, and watched him frown as he tilted his head. "About her belief that my office might be bugged," she clarified, and he nodded. "It was. I got a jammer a few nights ago, and used it this morning," she told him, and took the mints tin from her purse to show him the devices. “But that’s not all. I found one in my bedroom this morning,” she said, and fell silent as she took in a breath to steady herself. “I think there may be more throughout the house.”

Gabriel was hard pressed not to take the tin from her and crush the devices in his hand. He could easily turn the bits of plastic and metal into shattered bits of nothing, but he didn't dare. As much as he wanted to, he also knew that those devices could be their only lead on the leaks they had inside the department. He looked up when she snapped the tin closed a few seconds later, and watched her tuck it away in her purse. As calm as she was trying to pretend to be, he knew she was anything but.

She went to him easily when he lifted his arm to her in invitation, and he kissed her hair as he tucked her against his side. He had been worried when he had woken to find her gone. It hadn't even been five AM. He had known she wasn't getting much sleep, if any at all, but the thought of her being somewhere without him had unnerved him. She was a police lieutenant. She was highly trained, and dangerous in her own right, but he also knew that those hunting her would appear to her as a friend only to strike when she was the most vulnerable. Not unlike what Michael and Raphael had often done to him.

"Are you needed in the office today?" he asked her.

"There's nothing I'm scheduled for, if that's what you're asking," she replied softly, and he motioned for her to step out ahead of him when the elevator doors opened to reveal the parking garage. "How is it you never have a car, you don't use the bus, but you always get places?" she asked, and he chuckled as he followed her to her rental car.

"I use a car sometimes," he told her, grinning as he offered her a teasing shrug. "I just prefer other modes of travel."

"Oh no, that wasn't evasive at all," she teased in return, and he laughed. 

"You've been a bit jumpy lately," he told her, as he slipped into the front passenger seat, and gave her an address. "I figured it had more than a passing chance of being the investigation," he said, and watched her frown as she drove out into the streets of downtown L.A. "I booked us a room at the Inn at Playa del Ray. It's got a king bed and a couch that folds out into a queen. You need to sleep," he told her when she turned her eyes on him as she slowed for a traffic light. "You've barely slept at all in the past four days," he reminded her. 

"And you've slept any better?" she asked.

His brows lifted and fell as if in a shrug. "Not really, no, but I naturally sleep less," he told her. "I can feel it, how edgy you've been, and I know it's not me. You only seem to be calm when I'm in the room, but if you don't know I'm there," he said when she looked at him, "you're guarded and edgy as hell."

"Before Chloe came to me with this case," she told him as she pulled onto the highway, "I actually believed we were the good guys. I thought I could turn around the image of the L.A.P.D. and make the men and women who serve this city be seen as trustworthy again, but now . . ." She shook her head as she slowed and came to a stop in the bumper to bumper traffic. "How can I ask anyone to feel safe when I don't even feel safe?"

"Liv," Gabriel turned toward her in the passenger seat, and met her gaze when she looked at him. "You can’t do that to yourself. The people who are doing this aren’t just cops, and cops didn’t start this.”

“But they didn’t stop it, either,” she argued, and he nodded quietly.

“No, they didn’t. The good ones have tried to,” he reminded her. 

“And been killed for it,” she told him, and watched the muscle in his jaw tick. “I’m sorry – I just - ” 

“No,” he interrupted her, and took in a deep breath. “You’re right. You don’t know how right you are.”

“Gabe?” Olivia called to him softly in concern, studying his face when she stopped at a traffic light. “What is it?”

“I need to tell you about Gabby,” he told her, and her frown deepened.

“Gabby who?” she asked, and met his gaze when he looked at her.

“Special Agent Samantha Gabrielle Foggerty with the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the Federal Bureau of Investigation, but she preferred ‘Gabby’,” he told her with a smile. “She and I were very close,” he told her, his brows high on his forehead. “I was closer with her than I ever knew was possible. She was the first one to help me with this case. We’ve got a long drive,” he told her, and she frowned when he nodded to the side. “Pull over. I’ll drive us to the hotel, and I’ll tell you about Gabby on the way.”

**~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~**

Gabriel’s lips turned up in a soft bittersweet half-smile as he turned away from the check-in desk, and stared out the bay window at the beach he could see in the distance. She had always been there in the back of his mind, whispering to him from distant memories, but he hadn’t actively thought about Gabby in a long time. In a way that he didn’t fully understand, sharing his memories of her with Olivia made him feel closer to his lost love. He turned his head to look at Olivia when she stepped up beside him, and released a soft breath of amusement when she slipped her hand into his.

“We didn’t bring any clothes,” she told him, and he frowned in confusion. “The woman said you booked a three day stay,” she reminded him. “We didn’t pack anything.”

“Oh,” he said, as he nodded slowly, before shaking his head. “I didn’t even think about it,” he told her honestly. “I just needed to get away.”

“Hm,” she hummed her response, and turned her attention to the world outside the window. “Did you want to go sit on the beach?” she asked him, and Gabriel nodded. “You never did tell me what happened the day you left.”

Gabriel nodded quietly as he led her outside, his steps slow as they walked through the sand. There was no need to move quickly, no urgency to their steps. It wasn’t often that he got the chance to relax and forget himself, but for once, he was grateful for the respite. He closed his eyes as he breathed in deeply of the salted air, the brine of the sea calling him closer. 

“She was shot,” he said as he stopped walking, and smiled sadly as he looked down at Olivia. “But I already told you that. She knew I was leaving that night, we both did, but she . . . She didn’t want our goodbye to be in words.” He knelt next to her when she sat in the sand, and folded his legs together as he sat next to her. “I was so afraid of hurting her, but I couldn’t deny her. I laid back and let her do all the heavy lifting,” he joked softly, and blinked quickly when he felt his eyes sting.

“You loved her,” Olivia said, and he nodded quietly as he felt his nose burn. “The way you speak about her, the tone of your voice and the look in your eyes, Gabriel you would’ve done anything for her.” He nodded as he felt a tear fall on his cheek, and smiled sadly when she brushed it away. “You’ve never talked about her before, and I get the impression you haven’t talked to her since you left that night,” she said, her tone turning the soft-spoken statement into a question.

“I haven’t,” he confirmed softly, his words carried away by the rushing of the tide. “We both knew we couldn’t,” he said as he turned to meet her gaze. “Gabby and I were . . . In the beginning, we each tried to stay away from the other, find something to put distance between us, but it was like trying to keep magnets apart. The more we tried to distance ourselves from each other, the faster and harder we crashed together. We almost broke the kitchen table once,” he said with a chuckle, his smile wide. “But we both knew that if we stayed in touch after I left, we would be drawn back to each other. It had to be a clean break,” he told Olivia. “That first six months I felt . . . lost. I felt like I’d left a part of me behind. If she had called me, even just a text or an email, I would’ve dropped everything and gone right back.”

“But you didn’t,” Olivia said softly.

“No,” Gabriel agreed. “But I wanted to.”

He looked out to the ocean, watching as the water rushed in over the sand, small ribbons of froth dancing like lace upon the shore Part of him wanted to grab his phone and call her now, but if Gabby was as smart as he knew her to be, she would have changed her phone number by now. He could still remember the sight and taste of her tears as they’d made love that night, the sound of her gasping breaths as she’d cried quietly. The love they made had been slow, gentle, and so full of emotion that he hadn’t known where she’d ended and he’d begun. 

He had waited to leave until she’d fallen asleep, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to go if she’d been awake and watching him. He was no good at goodbyes, and he laughed softly as he shook his head. Gabby had known that, too. She’d known he would leave once she was asleep, and had stayed awake as long as she possibly could, until her exhaustion had finally won out. 

“I followed patterns and clues and rumors for almost two years throughout the southeastern US,” he told Olivia. “So many of the tunnels that had once been part of the Underground Railroad had been used to transport and hide the children. It wasn’t until about four months ago that I was led to LA,” he said, his eyes widening as he released a heavy sigh. “And then I found Chloe again, and saw her with Sammie – Lucifer,” he corrected himself.

“What do you mean you found Chloe again?” she asked him with confusion, and Gabriel sighed.

“There’s something else I need to tell you,” he told her, and turned his head to meet her gaze. “But not out here. Come on,” he said as he stood from the sand, and reached down to help her up.

“Gabriel?” Olivia called to him, tugging on his hand when she stopped walking. 

“What?” he asked as he looked back at her, his brows furrowed.

“Am I going to like what you have to tell me?” she asked him, and he took in a deep shaking breath.

“I don’t know,” he told her honestly. “You might hate me for it,” he told her, his voice soft and unsteady. “Sometimes I hate myself for it.”

“You’re not one of these people?” she asked him, her expression frightened as she studied him, tears in her eyes.

“No,” Gabriel denied fiercely, and shook his head. “Sometimes though, it feels so much worse than that.”

He led her back through the beach to the hotel, both of them remaining quiet, each lost in their own thoughts. The guilt had never left him, the self-recrimination that raged at him for not doing more, for not acting sooner. None of this had to happen, he thought, his mind twisting the memories of his past in Heaven until he believed he could have stopped the kidnappings from the beginning. There had to have been a way. If he had just been stronger, more rebellious like Lucifer, than none of this would have ever had to happen. 

“What did you want to tell me?” Olivia asked him, her voice quiet and heavy when she closed the hotel room door behind her. “Gabriel,” she called to him when he stepped away from her.

He stepped toward the window, lifting one hand to rest against the polished glass, the heat of his breath misting on the clear surface. Gabriel released a trembling sigh as he rested his brow against the cool surface of the window, and gathered his strength before he turned back to look at her. It was his fault, he thought as he looked at Olivia. All the pain she went through, the loss of her husband, the broken family she had been made to suffer through, the heartache that pained her even now. All of it had been his fault.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered as he closed his eyes and spread his wings slowly.

He heard the sharp intake of her gasp, and looked up slowly to meet her wide-eyed stare. Her mouth was open, shaking breaths drawn in and released quickly, as she stared at him. 

“What are you?” Olivia asked him, and he closed his eyes at the horrified sound of her whispered question.

“I am Gabriel,” he told her, his voice quiet and pained.

“Gabriel?” she spoke his name as she shook her head in question, only for her eyes to widen in horror as she released a harsh breath. “ _Gabriel the archangel?!_ ” she whispered fiercely, and he nodded quietly. “You’re supposed to _protect_ children,” she told him, her words an angry whispered curse.

“I know,” he told her sadly. 

Her breathing quickened, the sound of it unsteady. He watched the emotions play out on her face, the horror and disbelief turning into rage and pain. The look in her eyes when she lifted her hand to cover her mouth, the way she stared at him as she shook her head and backed away, told him that she remembered the night she had brought Sophia home from the hospital. She may have once believed it to be nothing more than a dream, but the sight of him in front of her with his wings on display brought the memory forth into full clarity. 

He didn’t back away, or try to stop her when she advanced on him, her emotions fueling her fury. He closed his eyes as he took her rage and agony into himself, the feel of her fists pounding against his chest only making him hate himself more. The pain of losing her child and her family was as raw to her now as it had been in the moments it had all first happened, and he hadn’t stopped any of it. His head turned when she struck his cheek, and he opened his eyes to meet her gaze, only to feel himself break as he watched the tears cascade down her face.

He wrapped his arms around her when she fell against him, her anger spent as she sobbed brokenly into his chest. She clung to him as he wrapped his wings around her, holding her closer as she cried. Over and over he whispered his apologies to her, wishing he had done something earlier, and blaming himself for his own weakness. 

“Why didn’t you stop what was happening?” she asked him as she pulled back, her anger resurfacing only to be drowned out beneath the weight of her sorrow.

“Because I was weak,” he told her, and tucked his wings back until they were hidden once more as he sat on the end of the bed. “Sammie was the only one who’s ever been strong enough to defy Father.”

“Sammie?” Olivia asked, and shook her head.

“Yeah, Sammie,” he told her as he leaned forward to rest his elbows on his thighs, his hands hanging down between his knees. “Lucifer,” he offered the name with a shrug. “Ask him to see his face sometime,” he told her as he looked up at her. 

“You mean – ” she asked, cutting herself off as she motioned behind her. “Lucifer, as in _Chloe’s partner_ , Lucifer Morningstar, he’s the _real_ Lucifer?” 

Gabriel nodded. “He’s not the bad guy all you humans believe him to be. He isn’t evil, and he doesn’t seek to corrupt the innocent. He punishes evil. He can pull the desires from humans, but Lucifer _isn’t_ evil. He doesn’t create anything that isn’t already there, he just reveals the truth.” 

“Does Chloe know?” she asked him, and Gabriel chuckled as he nodded. 

“Yeah,” he told her. “And she still loves him.”

He watched Olivia frown as she fell quiet, her brow furrowing as her gaze slipped to the side. If she had a problem with the relationship between her detective and his brother, it was something she’d have to settle for herself, he thought. He watched as she tipped her head, her frown growing deeper as her eyes grew darker.

“What?” he asked her, and watched as she looked up to meet his gaze. 

“You said ‘Sammie was the only one strong enough to defy your father’,” she reminded him, and he nodded slowly. “So, not only is God real, but He _forbade_ you from stepping in?” she asked him, and he nodded again. “What made you finally rebel?”

“Sophia,” he told her softly. “That I night I came to you, I marked her. I fused just a little of my energy with hers. It tied me to her. I felt her emotions stronger than I’ve ever felt any other child’s,” he said. “When she was taken, I could feel her fear as though it were my own. I was there that day in the park,” he told her. “I’m an angel,” he told her when she shook her head in confusion. “If I don’t want to be seen, I won’t be. I was so intent on stopping what was happening, and my brothers knew it. Michael and Raphael stopped me from going to her, they kept me hidden, and I . . . I broke that day. The unquestioning faith I’d once held in my father was gone, and in that moment, I _hated_ him.”

“Why would he stop you from helping those children?” she asked him, and Gabriel shook his head as tears filled his eyes.

“I don’t know,” he told her as he closed his eyes tightly. “It _hurt_ so much. I was dying, ‘Liv,” he told her. “With each child that was taken, each one that was beaten, or killed, or screamed in terror, part of me died. At the end, when I finally rebelled and left Heaven behind, I didn’t know who I was anymore. I was just empty.” He swallowed thickly as he looked up to meet her gaze. “The anger and pain I felt, the hopelessness, it was like nothing I’ve ever known. I wanted to destroy – _everything_ – but more than that, I wanted to stop what was happening. I didn’t even know how, until I met Gabby. It’s only because of her that I found my way again.”

“And your faith?” she asked him as she sat down beside him on the bed.

“I don’t know if that will ever return,” he told her honestly. “This didn’t all just start happening sixty years ago, ‘Liv,” he told her with a heavy sigh. “Eighteen thirty-four,” he said. “That’s the first time I can remember feeling that kind of fear from children, the terror that eventually into hopelessness. The broken spirits that cried out for someone to help, for someone to care. I tried to put a stop to it back then, and Father denied me. He told me it was the humans’ mess, and not to interfere.”

“He created humanity,” she said with confusion, and looked out at the beach outside the window. “He created _all_ of this.”

“I know,” he told her in a heavy whisper. 

“ _Why?_ ” she begged him for an answer, and he shook his head. 

“I don’t know,” he said. “Sometime before the Crusades, He just . . . abandoned everything. To be honest,” he said, as he looked up at the ceiling, “it was well before the rise of the Egyptians. Before humans recorded history, or kept details records. Before religion became a _thing_ ,” he told her, and sighed as he looked down at the carpet beneath his feet. “It was like He didn’t want to be reminded of humanity, but He couldn’t destroy it, either.”

“So, He just decided to pretend we didn’t exist?” she asked him with disbelief.

“There were times He acted like my siblings and I didn’t exist,” he told her sadly. “He was just gone.”

“But what about Jesus?” she asked him, and Gabriel snickered as he tried to hold back his amusement.

“The truth?” he asked her, and looked up to meet her ‘don’t mess with me’ glare. “He wasn’t really as special as everyone’s made him out to be.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Olivia asked. And Gabriel’s lips twitched as he tried not to smile.

“Dad was . . . Well, for lack of a better term, He was bored,” Gabriel said, and watched Olivia’s mouth fell open in disbelief. 

“ _Bored?!_ ” she repeated incredulously, and he nodded.

“There was no great and wonderful plan behind his birth, and most of us think of him as nothing more than Dad’s illegitimate son,” Gabriel told her. “Kind of like if your husband ever had an affair and a child resulted from it,” he said. “He just wanted to see how people would react to a virgin woman being pregnant. Jesus did good things, don’t get me wrong, but there wasn’t any master plan. In the end, Dad did save him, he was his son after all.”

“You’ve _got_ to be _kidding me_ ,” she exclaimed, and he shook his head as he looked at her with barely disguised humor. “ _Religions_ have been created because of him. _Wars_ have been waged because of him, and you’re telling me that God just put Jesus into play because he was _bored?!_ ”

“Same reason He created the platypus,” he told her with a shrug. “Most of the fantastic and magical things the Bible said Jesus did, he didn’t. More often than not it was Uriel and Amenadiel playing the background trying to outdo each other, and using the step-brother as their party trick.”

“Tell me you’re joking!” she demanded of him, and Gabriel shook his head in silent denial. “He spread the word of God’s love,” she said, and Gabriel scoffed.

“Please,” Gabriel said with a chuckle. “Father thought he was insufferable,” he told her, and watched as she stared at him slack jawed. “It’s true,” he told her. “Dad told Jesus that he had created him, why I don’t know, but after that, he thought it was his job to save people.” 

“The Commandments?” she asked, and Gabriel snorted. “Another result of boredom?” she asked with an air of sarcasm, and his lips twisted to the side in amusement as he shook his head.

“Nope,” he told her. “That was Sammie, actually,” he told her with a laugh. “He told Dad that he would make ten unbreakable laws, call each one a mortal sin, and the humans would break each and every one of them. Dad told him to ‘put up or shut up’, and along came Moses.”

“The Bible?” she asked, and Gabriel grinned as he shrugged.

“Sixty percent truth, forty percent crap,” he told her with a grin. “The events are true, for the most part. It is a recorded history of wars and migrations of civilizations that have been studied and proven by historians and archaeologists. But the meaning you humans put behind them isn’t. Take that photo of Jesus everyone seems to have. That’s not Jesus, it never was. That, and you can look it up if you don’t believe me, is really the image of Cesear Borgia, the second son of Pope Alexander VI of Rome. The Catholic Church couldn’t stand the fact that Jesus looked nothing like them, so they commissioned the portrait from Michelangelo.”

“Didn’t look like them?” she asked with a shake of her head.

“Look it up,” he quipped back with a lopsided grin. “There are several references in the Bible as well as from archeological and historical records. Jesus was Afro-Asiatic,” he told her. “Black.”

“Jonah and the whale?” she asked him, and Gabriel laughed.

“Complete bull,” he told her. 

“God asked a man to sacrifice his son!” she exclaimed, and Gabriel arched a brow.

“He just wanted to see if Abraham would do it,” he told her. “Amenadiel stepped in when it looked like he really would, and stopped him.”

“It’s a lesson about _having faith!_ ” she protested, and Gabriel stared at her pointedly.

“No,” he denied her. “You _humans_ made it a story about _faith_ , and we – the Heavenly host – played off it,” he denied her claim. “There really was nothing behind it besides idle curiosity, and a dare.”

“ _What?!_ ” she fairly shrieked.

“Sammie told Dad that the humans were just a bunch of blind sheep who would only ever follow the loudest voice, and Dad said they weren’t. So, one day, Dad asked Abraham to sacrifice his son to prove Sammie wrong with the belief that no human would kill their own child just because He told them to. In the end, it was Sammie who proved Dad wrong. That was the beginning of their rift,” he told her. “If there’s one thing our father hates, it’s to be proven wrong.”

“So, the stories in the Bible?” she asked, and Gabriel sighed as he fell to lie back on the bed.

“You humans are so hung up over that book,” he told her as he turned his head to look at her. “You take it as blind truth without ever stopping to question it. The basic events are true, but so are the basic events in a history book. Ask anyone who was really there for something you’ve read about and they’ll tell you it’s far different than what the books and papers say. Same thing goes for the Bible. It was written by mankind, and mankind has only ever done anything to suit their own goals and purposes. It wasn’t long after its first publication that religious leaders rose to power with the same kind of fame rock stars have now. The sad thing is, the few humans strong enough to question it were put to death. Same thing happens today. Look at your religious leaders out there who convince their congregations to go out and kill in the name of my father, but then claim that people were acting of their own volition.”

“Wait?” she said as she laid down on her side next to him. “That would mean that when your father stopped caring, it was . . .”

“Maybe a hundred years after the first pieces of that damned book came out,” he told her. “I guess He just got tired of humans using His name to justify murder and torture. Back when humans saw Him in everything, from the ground to the rocks and trees, and the wind and animals, He loved it. Villages of humans would plant gardens in His honor, and sing to Him just because they rejoiced in being alive.” He tipped his head. “Technically, every culture had their own ‘sets of Gods’, but it was all still just Him. But then came organized religion, and it was all about who had the power.”

“So, is there a message in it all?” she asked him, and he smiled as he looked at her.

“Love one another. Love the earth,” he said. “Treasure every moment you have. Be a good person, be good to each other. Take responsibility for your own actions, and remember that it’s not all about you. Good or bad, all of humanity is in this together. There was a time when humanity knew that. When you all depended on and supported each other, without needing some book to tell you to.”

Olivia shook her head as she rested her temple on her closed fist. Gabriel smiled in amusement as he held her gaze, before turning his head to look up at the ceiling. It was funny how the plain truth made him sound like a heretic. He snorted at the thought that if he had tried to tell anyone that same truth three hundred years ago, he would’ve been burned at the stake. Not that fire could harm an angel, but it would’ve been funny to see the looks on those religious zealots faces when they discovered they’d tried to put an angel to death in the name of God. He snorted again before his amusement came forth in waves of rolling laughter.

“What’s so funny?” she asked him, and pushed against his shoulder as he guffawed.

“I just imagined what would’ve happened if I’d told anyone what I just told you three hundred years ago,” he told her as he chuckled.

Her eyes widened as her brows rose high on her forehead. “They probably would have burned you at the stake,” she told him.

“Exactly,” he told her as he laughed.

“And how is that funny?” she demanded.

“Angels can’t be hurt by fire,” he told her with a grin. “We’re impervious to human weapons,” he said. 

“Lucifer got shot and he bled,” she reminded him, and Gabriel rolled his eyes.

“That’s only because of Chloe,” he denied. “That doesn’t count.”

“Explain that,” she demanded, and he shook his head.

“Would if I could,” he told her. “Chloe’s a wildcard.”

**~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~**

Lucifer looked at Chloe from over the rim of his wine glass, and smiled as he sipped at the burgundy liquid. Her attention was focused on the girl sitting next to her, and he watched as she tucked her daughter’s hair behind her ear. Trixie had already polished off two pieces of lasagna and was halfway through her third when she finally began to slow down. It was good to see the girl eat again, her appetite returned after weeks of her barely pecking at food. 

“Feeling better, Monkey?” Chloe asked, and Lucifer watched as the young girl nodded.

“Mmhmm,” Trixie replied with a slow nod. “I think I’m full,” she said, and sat back against her chair.

“You certainly ate enough,” Lucifer teased her. “Although, I hope you’re not too full,” he told her with a secretive grin. “While you were napping, I took the liberty of making a spot of dessert.”

“Dessert?” Trixie repeated, her eyes wide as her face brightened with excitement. 

“He sure did,” Chloe told her with a grin. “He wouldn’t even let me see what it was,” she teased her daughter.

“What did you make?!” Trixie demanded happily as she bounced in her seat.

“Are you certain you have room? You could always wait for it till later,” Lucifer teased her, and laughed at the expression on her face. “You most certainly are your mother’s daughter,” he told her with humor. 

He encouraged them to remain seated as he stood from the table, and cleared his plate and Chloe’s. He shook his head as he chuckled when Trixie took her plate from the table, and gave the rest of her lasagna to Shadow. It was a good thing hellhounds couldn’t get fat, he thought, as he watched the girl’s guardian devour the food. The plate was spotless within seconds, and he chuckled at the look on Trixie’s face when she handed it to him. 

Lucifer remained quiet as he stepped back into the large kitchen, listening as Chloe spoke with her daughter. Both he and the girl’s mother were concerned over the child’s welfare, her melancholy of late worrisome. He knew about the father/daughter dance, and Trixie’s decision to keep the news of it from them. Had it not been for Shadow, he wouldn’t know about it at all, and he shook his head as he stepped toward the oven. 

Taking the baking tray from inside, he set it on the stove and looked down at the individual tarts with a discerning eye. Summer berry sweet cream tarts with a crème de menthe drizzle finish. They had been fussy to make, but the effort was well worth it, he thought as he carried the warm dishes to the table. He smiled as he watched Trixie’s excitement grow, her eyes widening as she stared at the dish in his hand. 

“Careful,” he cautioned when she reached for the dish, and watched as she fairly dove into the dessert. 

He looked at Chloe when she chuckled, his brow furrowed in confusion as he watched her. He arched a brow as he sat down beside her and offered Chloe her dessert as he reached for his wine. She giggled a little louder as she shook her head, and sighed with amusement.

“No fair keeping it to yourself,” he prodded her, and smiled when she grinned at him. 

“I just couldn’t help thinking that you have ruined Trixie for normal men,” she told him, and he shook his head slightly in confusion. “You know, they say girls look for a man who reminds them of their fathers, but I’m fairly certain Trixie will look for someone like you.”

Lucifer scoffed as he looked at her with disbelieving humor. “Someone like me? Darling, I’m the Devil. There are none like me.”

“Know any angels?” she teased in return, and laughed when he glared at her.

“That’s not funny,” he told her, the twitching of his lips betraying his humor.

“It’s a little funny,” she said with a tilt of her head, and he chuckled. 

“Is she going to breathe?” he asked, and Chloe’s head fell back as she laughed. 

“Probably not,” she told him, laughing as they watched Trixie eat the tart. 

The treat was gone before Lucifer and Chloe had even made it to the center of theirs, and he shook his head as he looked at the child. Her eating habits never ceased to amaze him, especially her ability to pack away more food than three adults could eat in one sitting. She sat back a moment later and patted her stomach as she groaned in equal parts misery and pleasure.

“All done, Monkey?” Chloe asked, and Lucifer watched as the child slipped from her chair.

“I’ve got a food baby,” Trixie declared, and patted her stomach as she carried her dishes to the sink.

“Food baby?” Lucifer asked as he turned his attention on Chloe.

“Years ago, my mom teased her that she looked a little pregnant after a big meal, and told her she had a ‘food baby’,” Chloe told him. “And, of course, my twisted little daughter took that as a point of pride.”

Lucifer stood from the table a few moments later, his dish and cup in his hand, and stilled as he looked at the corner by the pantry. He nudged Chloe’s shoulder and nodded over her head when she turned to look up at him. He watched her smile as she stood from the table, and grinned down at her when she gathered her dishes from the table. She followed him to the sink, rinsing their dishes before putting them into the dishwasher. He followed her after he closed the appliance and set it to run, and stood with her against the island counter as she stood staring at her daughter. 

"Trixie loves those two so much," Chloe said with a soft laugh, and bit her lip. "I honestly had never even thought of getting her a dog, but I can't imagine her being without them now. The way Shadow watches over and protects Trixie, the comfort she gets from both her and Hunter . . ." Chloe's voice trailed off as she leaned against Lucifer's side, watching her daughter sleep in the circle of the hellhounds. 

Lucifer watched the emotions pass over her face, the adoration and love she felt for her daughter and the hellhounds surrounding her. She looked up at him with the same expression, but there was something more burning behind her eyes. He could feel the fire of her soul, his lips parting as her eyes darkened beneath his gaze. He closed his eyes against the heat of her touch, the delicate glide of her fingertips over his stubble-roughened cheeks as she framed his face in her hands.

"Chloe," he whispered her name as she drew him closer.

He gasped against her lips when she pulled him in for a kiss, and wrapped his arms around her, lifting her up to sit her on the counter behind her. Her legs wrapped around his waist as her hands fisted in his hair, and he groaned in pleasure at the pain when she tugged on his locks. He wanted her now, here in this kitchen, and growled low as he broke the kiss to let her breathe. He nibbled along her jawline, trailing nipping kisses down the column of her throat until he reached the curve of her shoulder.

She gasped against him, crying out his name, as he rocked his hips against hers. They were both fully clothed, but in that moment, he couldn’t have cared less. All he knew was the feel of her skin, the sound of her panting breaths and racing heartbeat. He felt her hands in his shirt, her fingers struggling with the buttons of his dress shirt, until she gave up with a frustrated sound and ripped it open. He chuckled as he returned to her mouth, kissing her as he leaned over her, and caught her head as she fell back to lie on the steel countertop.

Chloe arched beneath him, her arm reaching out above her head for purchase, only to knock a large metal bowl off the counter. It clanged loudly when it fell to the floor, the sound deafening in the relative quiet of the kitchen, shocking them apart. Lucifer sighed heavily when he heard the startled cry from the child behind them followed by the answering warning growls of the hellhounds, and dropped his head to the curve of Chloe’s throat as he closed his eyes and steadied himself.

“Let me go get a new shirt,” he told her, and shook his head as he moved slowly to stand up. “Get your spawn and go find something to watch,” he instructed.

“You know Trixie too well,” Chloe teased him.

Lucifer snorted. “She’s exactly like you,” he told her. “Once startled awake, she’ll be up for hours,” he told her, taking her hand as he pulled her to sit upright before helping her down off the counter.

**~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~**

Olivia breathed in deeply as she stepped into her house and looked back over her shoulder as Gabriel followed her inside. He may have booked them three days at the hotel, but all she’d really needed was one night and the following day. The sun had set almost half an hour ago, and for once, in longer than she cared to remember, she felt truly good. She frowned when she caught sight of a folded piece of paper standing up on the coffee table waiting for her, and reached for it as she turned it over to look at the note written inside. 

“What’s that?” Gabriel asked as he stepped up beside her, and she showed him the note.

“Chloe’s friend, Special Agent Grace,” she said. “He went through my car and the house. He recovered fifteen more bugs. He’s tracing them to see where the serial numbers lead, but right now he doesn’t know who put them there, or even if it was all done by the same person.”

“What do you want to do?” he asked her, and Olivia shook her head. 

“I don’t know. If I move, or buy another car, then it’s telling them in giant neon letters that I know I’m being watched,” she said. “If I go about my life and act the same as I always have then they may _suspect_ that I knew the bugs were there, and if they try to put new ones in we may be able to catch them in the act. I don’t know what the right move is.”

She looked back as she watched Gabriel step into the kitchen, knowing exactly where he was going. She wondered if it was a habit he had picked up from Gabby, or something all his own. Either way, she thought as she heard him turn on the water to fill the tea kettle, she appreciated it. He called out to her from the kitchen, and she chuckled as she called back. She was too awake to want herbal tea, but too tired to want something caffeinated. In the end, she asked him for the white jasmine hibiscus tea. 

“Are you expecting anyone?” he called out to her when the doorbell rang.

“Not that I’m aware of,” she said as she set her phone down on the coffee table. “It’s ok, I’ve got it,” she told him as she stepped toward the door. 

She cursed under her breath when she tripped on the edge of the throw rug under the coffee table, her steps faltering and causing a delay in her getting to the door. Shaking her head as she sighed and stepped up the door, she unlocked the deadbolt and pulled it open, only to still as she stared in silence at the girl on her porch. It wasn’t possible, she thought, her breath catching in her throat as she watched the young woman turn around.

“ _S-Sophia_?” she whispered with wide-eyed disbelief. 

If this was a dream, it was a cruel and terrible nightmare. She wouldn’t be able to handle it if it weren’t true, and closed her eyes as she fought not to cry. Taking in a deep breath to calm herself, she opened her eyes. Part of her had expected to see someone else, or no one at all, but Sophia was still standing there in front of her. It had been ten years, and she had grown so much in that time, but she would know her daughter anywhere.

“Hi Mom,” Sophia returned, her voice barely loud enough to be heard.

Olivia released a harsh breath, the sound almost a bark, as she reached out and dragged her daughter into her arms. She didn’t even know she was crying until Gabriel ran towards them, calling out to her in concern. She watched his eyes widen the second he saw Sophia, and the relief on his face as he helped them both inside. She couldn’t let go of Sophia even if she wanted to, Olivia thought, as she led her daughter over to the couch and sat down with her.

“Are you really here?” Sophia asked, her eyes locked on Gabriel.

“Yes,” he answered with a slow nod, and Olivia frowned as she looked between them.

“You two know each other?” she asked, and it was Sophia who answered her.

“Kind of, I guess,” her daughter said, her brow furrowed. “Since the day I was taken, Gabriel’s come to me in dreams. He’s told me about you and Dad, played my memories for me, and kept you both alive for me. He made it so that I never forgot about you. I _survived_ because you were always there with me, Mom.”

“You did?” Olivia asked as she looked up at Gabriel, and blinked as her tears slipped down her cheeks. 

“It was what I could do,” he told her quietly. “I never wanted her to forget.”

Olivia released a harsh sob as she turned back to Sophia and wrapped the girl in her arms, only to frown as she pulled back. She hadn’t noticed out on the porch, but Sophia was wearing a backpack. Frowning in confusion as she watched her daughter slip the straps from her shoulders, Sophia handed her the bag.

“This is for you,” Sophia told her. “I don’t know if you can even trace any of it, or what you can do with it, but I get this same box from the people who took me each month. I stopped taking the pills before I left Germany.”

“Pills?” Olivia asked as she took the backpack, and opened the zipper.

“They change the color of my eyes, and also make my skin a little lighter. I don’t really know how they work, and they don’t seem to be detectable,” she said with a shrug. “At least the doctor I see back in Germany has never mentioned anything.”

“What is all this stuff?” Olivia asked as she opened the box.

“Hair dye,” Sophia said as she picked up two of the bottles and set them aside on the coffee table. “The pills that change my eyes,” she told them as she set aside another bottle. “Don’t pour out the hair dye,” she warned her mother. “There’s this little . . . thing at the bottom. It’s like one of those balls in nail polish bottles, but once the liquid gets down low enough, it bursts.”

“What happens when it bursts?” Olivia asked her with concern.

“A kind of chemical reaction,” she told her. “The bottle melts, and if there’s any dye left over, it makes it so that it can just be wiped away easily with no trace left behind.”

Olivia sighed. “Ella will definitely want to see this,” she said with a nod. “My forensic tech. She’s quite possibly the best there is.”

Sophia nodded as she looked down. “I was so scared to come here tonight,” she admitted, and Olivia looked at her with wide eyes.

“Why?” Olivia asked her.

“I was afraid you’d forgotten about me, that you’d moved on, or had another family, and wouldn’t want me,” she confessed, and laughed through her tears when Olivia wrapped her arms around her.

“I will _never_ not want you in my life,” she told her daughter fiercely. “You are, and always will be, my daughter,” she promised her. “Do you want to stay here tonight?” she asked her as she pulled back. “ _Can_ you stay here tonight?”

“I only wanted to go that school so that I could come home to you,” Sophia told her. “How do I . . . How do I tell them? I mean, they are, but they’re not my parents. They’ve taken care of me, but _you_ are my mom.”

“Do you _want_ to tell them?” Olivia asked, and nodded her thanks when Gabriel brought her and Sophia cups of tea. “Thank you,” she said to him, and he nodded as he sat in the arm chair next to the couch.

“I want to tell them everything,” Sophia said softly, “but I don’t want to hurt them.”

“Do you think they knew where you came from?” Gabriel asked, and Sophia shook her head.

“No, definitely not,” she denied. “They were told I was an orphaned survivor of a collapsed hotel in Manheim. Mostly Americans stayed there, some from the UK, but it was an American hotel. Greta and Hans, they do so much charity work trying to help kids in any way they can, I don’t see them having any idea as to my true origins. But when they find out,” she told Olivia. “They will want to help. I can’t imagine them not wanting to.”

Olivia nodded as she looked at her daughter, still unable to believe that Sophia was sitting right there next to her. Her expression fell when her daughter asked about her father, and Olivia held back her tears as she told her the truth of what had happened. She told her about the years after her disappearance, the hardships that they’d suffered together, only to finally fall apart. Olivia closed her eyes as she took in a deep breath, and told Sophia the work her father had done in trying to find her, and how close he had come. 

“Daddy knew where I was?” Sophia asked, her voice trembling.

“He was really close,” Olivia said with a nod. “He never told me he was still looking into everything. I guess, he was trying to protect me. And then Evangeline picked up the search where he left off.”

“I don’t want to go back,” Sophia whispered, and Olivia hugged her fiercely.

“I will do _whatever it takes_ to keep you with me. I don’t care what I have to do,” she promised her daughter, and took comfort from the way Sophia clung to her in return. 

“Sophia,” Gabriel said, Olivia and Sophia turned to meet his gaze. “Why don’t you take the guest room,” he offered her. “It’s all made up.”

“Do you stay here, too?” she asked, and Gabriel nodded as he chuckled softly.

“For the past week or so, anyway,” he told her. “Don’t worry about me,” he said when she opened her mouth to argue. “I’m up most nights anyway working on the case.”

“Ok,” Sophia said with a slow nod. “I can’t believe I’m actually home,” she whispered.

“You are, baby,” Olivia said, and kissed her forehead. “You’re home.”

**~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~**

Moonlight glinted off the steel blade as it slipped in between the wood of the windowsill and the frame holding the glass. The wire for the security system was cut cleanly, and a gloved hand pressed a button on a small device before slipping it into the side pocket of a leather jacket. Gloved hands lifted the window carefully before the woman slipped inside the home, and closed the window after.

Her movements were quiet, her steps careful as she moved down the hall to find the master bedroom. The man and woman were asleep in the bed, the window across from the bed open just enough to let the cool night air inside. The woman remained silent as she stepped to the window and pulled a small tube from her jacket pocket. 

She uncapped the tiny bottle and brought the plastic tip to the windowsill. Squeezing out the clear liquid, she made a line across the wood before closing the window as quietly as possible, and pressed the window down into the frame. Holding the window in place for a minute, she tried to pry it up, and smiled when the super glue held it in place.

Moving quietly to the bed, she returned the capped superglue to the small plastic baggie in her pocket, and pulled out two syringes. It didn't take her long to inject both inhabitants of the bed, the sedatives ensuring that they would stay asleep, and returned the capped empty syringes to her pocket. Never leave anything behind, that was the only rule she'd ever had.

She moved to the space heater plugged into the wall, and turned the appliance on high. Stripping the power cord close to where it connected to the device, she pulled a scarf from the dresser and dropped it over the frayed wires. There was one spark, then another, and she watched as the piece of cloth caught on fire. It would be easy enough to call this fire an accident, bad wiring, or poor care of household appliances. 

Pulling the door closed as she stepped into the hall, she moved through the house until she found the office. Just as she had been told, the man had kept records on everything. If there was one thing a lawyer could be counted on, it was for always having a paper trail. She didn't know why she'd been contracted to kill him, and she didn't care, but this was the second part of her assignment.

It didn't take her long to search through the drawers and find the cigar case he kept hidden. Probably didn't want his wife to know, she thought as she took the cigar from the clear plastic wrapping and lit it. She had to suck on it to pull the heat through, but was careful enough to remove off the end she'd had her mouth on with a cigar cutter. Tucking the small piece of cigar inside her pocket, she made certain the cigar was glowing, and dropped it onto the desk.

It didn't take long for the papers to catch on fire, and she watched as the flames spread over the desk. She moved back out into the hall and jogged quickly toward the window she'd entered through, leaving the same way. Pulling the black hood up over her head, she ran for the trees lining the property and watched as the house went up in flames. Taking the disposable cellphone from her pocket, she tapped on the single number in the call entry, and lifted the device to her ear.

"It's done."


	29. Chapter 28 "Hunter"

AN: Lucifer and all recognizable characters belong to Jerry Bruckheimer and FOX television. Set post 'Take Me Back to Hell'. . (Written prior to the start of season 2.)

 

 

Summary: There is only one thing that can make an immortal vulnerable, only one thing that can hurt an angel aside from another angel - their mate. It was only a rumor, a baseless myth, something Amenadiel had never believed, until it happened to Lucifer.

 

 

 

 

Memento Mori

 

Chapter 28

**_"Hunter"_ **

by WhisperingWolf

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

She didn’t think as she spun around and slammed her fist into the wall behind her. The anger coursing through her burned hotter than she had ever felt before, and it was only by the grace of the calming hand on her shoulder that she was able to see past it. Gabby turned around as she met Uriel’s gaze, and shook her head as she handed him the letter in her hand. She stepped away from him as she rubbed her hand over her eyes and pinched her nose.

 

“She’s certain?” Uriel asked, and Gabby nodded.

 

“I started communicating with her by post mail a few years ago when she told me that the information I was passing to them seemed to be arriving too late,” she told him. “Someone has been monitoring my computer, my phones, and my tablets.”

 

“Gabby,” he called to her, caution in his tone.

 

“I am tired of this,” she told him, a low growl coloring her words. “I _left_ my home. I _left_ my job. _My son_ has to grow up _bouncing_ from city to city, never knowing stability, and _all of it_ because of these bastards. And _I am done_ playing by their rules.”

 

“What are you going to do?” he asked her, and she arched her brow as she met his gaze.

 

“Aren’t you the one who’s supposed to be able to see patterns?” she asked him, and he offered her a pouting smile as he nodded.

 

“With anyone else, yes,” he told her. “But you’ve always been my blind spot,” he told her softly. “And Sammy,” he said as he nodded toward the hall. “He’s more of a blind spot than you ever were.”

 

“Uri how did this happen?” she asked him, and he shook his head in question. “I love my son. I love him more than I ever thought possible to love someone, but Gabriel was always insistent that angels can’t have children. So . . . how . . . ?”

 

Uriel sighed as he led her over to sit on the couch. “Do you remember the night before I brought you Tracker?” he asked her, and she nodded. “The night I kissed your brow,” he said, and touched her in the same place. “It was a blessing,” he told her, and she frowned in confusion. “My father –“

 

“God?” she interrupted him, her eyes wide and brow furrowed incredulously.

 

“Yes,” he told her with a soft laugh. “Yeah. God,” he said. “He told me to come bless you, that’s why I came to see you that night. I didn’t know you’d been shot until Gabe told me. He was . . . I’ve never seen him like that before.”

 

“Wait, so, that night, the night he left me. The night we . . . And Sammy?” she said, not finishing her thoughts, and Uriel nodded slowly.

 

“Yeah,” he affirmed. “His father would be proud,” he said with a grin, and leaned forward as he turned his head to look at her from the side. “Gabriel Samael Foggerty,” he spoke the boy’s name in full.

 

“Sammy,” Gabby said with a smile, and stilled as she looked up, her smile falling away. “His father,” she said as the answer came to her. “Uriel, I need a favor.”

 

“That was always Lucifer’s thing,” he said reflexively, and then looked at her. “What do you need?”

 

“Are you able to bless someone with protection?” she asked, and he frowned. “Make them unseen by those who would do them harm,” she elaborated, and watched as he stilled.

 

“Gabby,” he said in warning as he shook his head.

 

“Can it be done?” she persisted, and he sighed as he nodded.

 

“Yes,” he said reluctantly.

 

“Then do it,” she commanded him. “Go bless Sammy. Uriel, do this for me,” she insisted, her voice unsteady.

 

“The cost for something like this,” he warned her, knowing his father would want something in return.

 

“I don’t care,” she told him. “He is _my son_ , and I will do _whatever_ it takes to protect him. His nightmares are getting worse. His _dreams_ are able to direct us to the next city to go to, the next building or house that holds these children. It needs to stop. These children, these _victims_ deserve their freedom. I left because I was pregnant, Uriel. And I am fighting now because of my son. You’re his uncle,” she told him, and he sighed as he looked away from her.

 

“You don’t fight fair,” he told her, and Gabby laughed softly.

 

“I fight to win,” she told him, and leaned over to kiss his cheek. “Whatever the price is for my son’s safety, I will pay it. As long as he’s safe, nothing else matters.”

 

“Ok,” he said, and stood from the couch. “You’re not going to tell me what you’re planning, are you?” he asked, looking back at her over his shoulder.

 

“Plausible deniability,” she said simply, and he nodded.

 

She watched as he moved into her son’s room, and rubbed her lips together as she stood from the couch. What she was about to do would be the hardest thing she had ever done in life, next to saying goodbye to Gabriel. Closing her eyes as she moved into the kitchen, she looked down at the hellhound curled up on the floor near the table, and knelt down before sitting next to his head with her legs crossed.

 

“Hey, big guy,” she greeted Tracker when he lifted his head to look up at her. “I need your help,” she said as she cradled his head in her hands, and bent low to press her forehead to his. “I need you to protect my baby, and take him to his father.”

 

Tracker whined low as he pulled back, his gaze meeting hers as his eyes flashed crimson before returning to their normal coal black. He offered her a low groaning growl as he thumped his tail against the floor slowly. She knew Tracker understood that she meant for him to go alone, to take Sammy and leave without her. She smiled when he inched closer to lay his head in her lap as he curled himself around her.

 

“I know you were tasked with protecting me,” she told Tracker as she curled against his side, laying against him as she had so many times over the years. “But now I need you to protect my son, and that means he can’t be near me. The people who have been trying to stop me are working on the inside. They’re the ones who’ve been following us under the guise of protecting us. Sammy must be protected, and he isn’t safe near me.”

 

Tracker moved his tail, covering her lap with it as he curled closer, his head resting on her lap as he formed a protective circle around her. So many times, she had laid like this against him, sleeping in this position during her pregnancy. He had been the first one to know she was pregnant, staying closer to her, becoming more protective of her. He had even hunted for her, she recalled with a smile, remembering the night when he had come to the back door of her house with a five-point buck in his jaws.

 

“I remember you laying like that with him when you were pregnant,” Uriel said as he walked into the kitchen, and Gabby smiled as she looked up to meet his gaze.

 

“And I remember you skinning and butchering that buck he brought me,” she said with amusement.

 

“Well, someone had to,” he said with a chuckle. “Six months pregnant, and you couldn’t keep anything down unless it was red meat.”

 

“I thought he was going to be born with a full head of hair,” she told him, and Uriel smiled as he knelt down.

 

“And instead he was born with wings,” he said, and she nodded. “Tracker was beside himself that night,” he reminded her, and she laughed.

 

“I don’t think he knew what to do,” she said. “Going into labor at home, giving birth on the living room floor, I was in so much pain, and he kept circling around and whining. You’d think he was the one in labor,” she said with a laugh.

 

“I remember,” he said with a nod. “It’s done,” he told her sincerely. “Sammy’s protected. I don’t know what the cost is yet. Something like this, it’s unpredictable.”

 

“It doesn’t matter,” she told him, and offered him a pouting smile as she reached for his hand. “Thank you for coming to us over the years. I don’t know if I could have done this on my own.”

 

“You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for,” he told her, and looked up. “I’ve got to go.”

 

“I know,” she said with a nod. “Come on, Tracker,” Gabby said as she stood from the floor.

 

She led the hellhound into her son’s room, and smiled bittersweetly as she looked at her sleeping child. If she didn’t do this now, she knew she never would. Stepping up to her son’s closet, she opened the accordion doors and removed his back pack. She felt her eyes burn with tears she refused to let fall as she filled his backpack with clothes, and a picture of the four of them - her, Uriel, her son, and Tracker - all together in front of a fireplace.

 

Gabby left the back pack sitting on the chair in her son’s room as she returned to the kitchen and grabbed a handful of granola bars and snack packs from the pantry. Moving to the fridge, she took out a wrapped bundle of juice boxes, and nodded to herself as she carried her bounty back into her son’s room. It didn’t take her long to pack the items in his bag. Making certain he had a roll of toilet paper in his bag as well, she zipped it up, and set it aside on the floor by the bed.

 

She closed her eyes as she took the small wallet she’d given him from the table by his bed, and stepped out of the room. Moving into her bedroom, she took the cash from her purse, and counted out three hundred dollars. She didn’t know how long it would take them to reach Gabriel, or if he was even still here on earth, but if what Uriel had told her before was true, Lucifer was on earth and he had made it his home. She closed her eyes as she held her son’s wallet in her hands, and prayed that Lucifer would watch over her son.

 

Returning to her son’s room, she took his denim jacket from the closet, and tucked the wallet into the inside breast pocket. She closed her eyes as she knelt by the side of her son’s bed, and gently shook him awake. She smiled when he stretched, his arms going out above his head as he spread his small wings wide. Uriel had been the one to teach him how to hide his wings while he was awake, but she knew that he would need to hide them as he slept as well. As dangerous as it had been for Gabriel to reveal himself to her, she could only imagine the horrors her son would face if anyone learned of his origins.

 

“Hi baby,” she greeted Sammy, and smiled when he frowned at her.

 

“It’s still dark,” he said, and she nodded quietly. “Why are you sad?”

 

“I need you to be brave for me, my beautiful boy,” she told him, and took his hands when he sat up. “Tracker’s going to take you to your uncle.”

 

“To Uriel?” he asked her, and she shook her head as a tear slipped down her cheek.

 

“To Samael,” she told him. “The uncle you’re named after. He goes by Lucifer.”

 

“Lucifer?” he repeated, and she nodded. “Are you coming with us?” he asked, and she shook her head.

 

“Not this time, baby,” she told him softly. “I’ll come when I can, but right now, it’s too dangerous. Mommy has to send you to your Uncle Lucifer to keep you safe. There’s a picture in your backpack, if he asks you who you are, you show him that picture.”

 

“I don’t want to go,” he told her, and she smiled sadly as more tears slipped down her cheeks.

 

“I don’t want you to, either, baby, but you have to go. It’s the only way to keep you safe,” she promised him. “Your Uncle Uriel was here earlier. He blessed you, Sammy. People who want to hurt you won’t be able to see you. Tracker and your Uncle Uriel will keep you safe until you get to your Uncle Lucifer.”

 

Gabby helped her son out of his bed, making certain he used the bathroom and brushed his teeth before he got dressed. Kneeling on the floor in front of him, she tied his shoes before helping him into his jacket. She spoke slowly, answering what questions she could as she told him about the contents of his backpack, and the money tucked into his wallet in the coat he wore. She buttoned up his jacket and straightened his clothes before taking his hand and walking with him through the house.

 

“Take this,” she told him, and tucked a small flip phone into his hand. “That phone has mommy’s number in it. If you get scared, or get lost, you can call me, but you have to make sure to only call when you _really_ need to. The bad people might be tracking our calls.”

 

“I’ll be good, Mommy,” he promised her, and Gabby nodded as she tried not to cry.

 

“I know you will be, Sammy,” she said, and lifted him to sit on Tracker’s back as they stepped outside. “Here you go,” she said as she helped her son put on his backpack and then snapped the straps together in the front that would hold the bag in place. “Hold on tight,” she told him, and watched him grip Tracker’s fur. “Protect my baby, Tracker. Take him to Lucifer,” she commanded of Tracker, and then pointed into the night. “Go!”

 

 

 

**~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~**

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chloe sighed as she dropped the notepad she was working with down on the coffee table turned desk in front of her, and stood from her seat on the couch. Rubbing her hands over her face, she braced her hands against the small of her back and leaned back, grimacing as she heard the pops from her vertebrae. She rolled her neck and groaned as more pops sounded. Her body was giving her a clear sign that she’d been sitting too long, staring at notes that didn’t make any sense.

 

Blowing out a heavy breath, she gathered the papers and files together, and lifted the messy pile to tuck it back into the bag she carried for work. She would get back to the case later, but for now, Chloe thought, she needed a distraction. Setting her bag aside, she moved through the penthouse and into the room she shared with Lucifer, the familiar click of claws following behind her.

 

“You know, I’m still in the penthouse,” she called over her shoulder to Hunter. “I haven’t left,” she said, and was answered with a groaning bark. “Right,” she said with a sigh, and shook her head. “Well, if you’re going to follow me around, make yourself useful. Go find Maze,” she commanded as she turned to look at Hunter, and watched as his eyes flashed crimson in response.

 

His jaws fell open in a wide smile, his tongue hanging out over the side for just a moment before he nodded. Chloe shook her head with amusement as she watched the hellhound leave, and unbuttoned her blouse as she headed for the walk-in closet. Tomorrow was going to be an interesting day, she thought, as she slipped the shirt from her shoulders, and caught it on her wrists when it slid down her arms. In order to allow her to leave the station and investigate the new leads she’d found as she needed to, without anyone trying to follow her to stop her, Olivia was going to suspend her, or at least make it look like she had.

 

It was set to be a public spectacle, they had planned it that way. Midday, Olivia would call her into her office, and the door – that would look to be closed – would be open just enough for those outside to hear them. They would argue, and while Olivia had given her carte blanche to say whatever she wanted, she did warn her not to overplay their hand. The argument needed to look real, not staged. In some manner, Chloe needed to look the part of the disgruntled cop, the one who was fed up with being held back, or benched. She had to look like she was willing to betray her own principles, but how to do that and be convincing was where she found the problem.

 

Chloe shook her head as she dropped the clothing she’d worn to work into the hamper, and dressed in a pair of tight fitting grey gym shorts and a sports bra. She needed the release that physical activity would bring her, and after almost two months of sparring with Mazikeen, what she wanted most was a good fight. Slipping on a pair of socks and her sneakers, she stepped out of the closet and moved into the bathroom. It didn’t take her long to secure her hair back in a ponytail and remove her makeup. If there was one thing she had learned since working out with Mazikeen, it was that sweat and makeup didn’t mix.

 

“Let me guess,” Mazikeen’s voice sounded from the doorway of the bedroom, and Chloe looked up with wide eyes. “All you said was ‘Go get Maze’,” she said, and Chloe frowned as she nodded. “Hellhounds are very intelligent, but lack the ability to speak,” she reminded Chloe, and nodded down to her arm.

 

“Hunter!” Chloe reprimanded the hellhound when she saw Mazikeen’s arm caught in his teeth.

 

“He’s not hurting me,” Mazikeen scoffed. “He was just very insistent that I go with him.”

 

“I was looking for a sparring partner,” Chloe answered the woman’s unspoken question, and watched as Mazikeen’s eyes widened with a dangerous and lustful smile.

 

“Really?” Mazikeen purred in response. “Well, let me go get changed into something more . . . flexible,” she said as she glanced down at the skin-tight leather outfit, “and I’ll meet you in the gym.”

 

Chloe chuckled as she shook her head, and patted her thighs as she called Hunter to her. The hellhound moved at once, bounding across the room to her, his tail whipping through the air with excitement. Grabbing the beast by the fur over his jaws, Chloe shook his head and smiled wide.

 

“Who’s my good boy?” she asked Hunter with excitement, and laughed when he released a powerful bark. “That’s right!” she cheered. “You’re my good boy,” she praised him, and hugged him, laughing as he wagged his tail hard enough that his entire body shook because of it. “You really are the best, Hunter,” she told him, her tone softer, calmer. “The closer I get to a break in this case, the more dangerous it feels.”

 

Hunter tipped his head as he fell silent, his tail falling still as he looked up at her with concern. Chloe sighed as she walked beside him out of the bedroom, and down to the gym. She hadn’t told Lucifer about the calls she’d been getting at her desk phone, the ones where there was no voice on the other end, but just enough sound to let her know that someone was there. She’d told Bobby, but as the phone was inside the station and on the police board switch, there was a good possibility that a tap was already in place, and without a court order, there was nothing he could legally do.

 

The longer this case went on, the more she felt certain of the fact that she wouldn’t survive it. If she did break though and find all the key players, and that was starting to look like a _big_ if, she was very much doubted that she would make it out alive. She hadn’t told Lucifer the full extent of what Bobby had found, the line of bodies left across the highways and at different ports, people who had been known to be connected to a few different names they’d found associated with this case already. The way everything had been done, the deaths wouldn’t have been tied together, if she hadn’t started digging into the case.

 

She wanted justice, Chloe thought as she struck her fist against the hanging body bag. She wanted these people to pay for the lives they’d ruined. She wanted to reunite the victims with their families. She wanted to end the pain they’d caused, and maybe, just maybe, repay them with a bit of their own medicine. There was a part of her that was almost jealous of the punishment Mazikeen and Lucifer felt so free to dole out when it was deserved.

 

“Starting without me?” Mazikeen teased as she appeared behind the body bag to steady it for her.

 

“Maybe,” Chloe responded, and met Mazikeen’s gaze when the woman arched her brow curiously.

 

“Restless or pissed off?” she asked, and Chloe sighed as she shook her head.

 

“Either. Both.”

 

Chloe dropped her hands as she moved away from the punching bag, and counted the footsteps she could hear as Mazikeen stepped up behind her. Taking in a deep calming breath, she closed her eyes and waited. She moved instinctively, feeling the brush of air on her skin as Mazikeen moved out to attack her from behind, and ducked underneath the sweep of her opponent’s arm as she turned. Striking out with the heel of her hand, she caught Mazikeen in the shoulder and lifted her other arm to block the woman’s next strike.

 

“Better,” Mazikeen praised, with a nod.

 

“Damn straight,” Chloe replied, and turned as she swept her leg out in a low kick.

 

“Too slow,” Mazikeen returned as she jumped over the move meant to unbalance her, and caught Chloe across the shoulder with the back of her hand. “I thought you wanted to spar?” she taunted Chloe. “We’re barely even dancing.”

 

Chloe responded to the challenge in kind, lashing out with her fist to catch Mazikeen across the jaw, the padded half-finger boxing gloves softening the blow. Narrowing her eyes when the woman laughed, Chloe caught her arm when she struck out in return, and turned her back to her as she flipped her onto the mat. Mazikeen didn’t stay down for more than a second, flipping back on her hands to jump back to her feet, and Chloe shook her head.

 

“One of these days, you’re going to have to teach me how to do that,” she told Mazikeen, and the woman smiled as she laughed.

 

“One of these days, Decker,” she returned. “I’m going to make you as proficient with knives as you are with guns.” She tipped her head up as she blocked the punch Chloe threw at her, and parried with one of her own. “What’s got you so tense today?”

 

“Tomorrow Olivia and I will be setting a trap for these guys, for whoever it is in the department that’s watching us,” she said, blocking Mazikeen’s roundhouse kick and unbalancing the woman. “I’m going to be the bait.”

 

“How’s that supposed to work?” Mazikeen asked, her tone showing her displeasure over the idea.

 

“I’m not really sure. We’re going to make it look like Olivia’s suspending me, give the eyes watching the fight they’d expect, and then I leave the station,” she said simply. “It’s their move after that.”

 

“Hunter is going to be by your side,” Mazikeen stated fiercely, making certain Chloe understood that her words were a command and not a request.

 

“Bobby and Gabriel will be there, too. They’ll just be hanging back enough to be unseen,” she said, and bounced back on the balls of her feet when Mazikeen struck out at her. “I really have no idea what to expect from this. Neither does Olivia.” Darting forward, she began a series of parried and blocked attacks with Mazikeen, the rhythm growing faster with each strike and block. “I could find myself having a conversation with someone, or – “

 

“Or they could shoot you,” Mazikeen cut in, knocking Chloe to the mat with a strike that was too quick for her to block.

 

“There is that,” Chloe agreed as she rolled to her feet. “The worst part is knowing that there are people inside the precinct who are working with this organization and watching us at the same time. Nothing feels safe anymore. I swear, Hunter is as tense as I am when we go in there.”

 

“He knows you’re uneasy,” Mazikeen said simply, blocking a strike from Chloe. “The more unsettled you are, the more protective he will be. If things get bad, and I mean really bad, don’t be surprised if his face changes. It doesn’t happen very often with hellhounds, but in the heat of battle, in a moment that is intensely darkly emotional for them, you may see their demonic side.”

 

“Hunter?” Chloe asked, as she glanced at the hellhound curled up in the corner by the exercise balls.

 

“Yeah, Hunter,” Mazikeen said as though it should have been obvious. “He’s a hellhound. Genius classification, if he had one, would be Demon.”

 

“I’m scared, Maze,” Chloe confessed as she blocked a strike from Mazikeen, and tried to flip her over, only to find herself pinned from behind instead.

 

“I’d be worried if you weren’t,” Mazikeen told her, and released Chloe from the hold she had on her. “So, let’s get you ready for anything.”

 

Chloe nodded slowly, her eyes widening a moment later when Mazikeen darted forward, intent on taking her down. She dodged left first, Mazikeen following her easily, and moved quickly to her right. Each time she moved, Mazikeen moved, and she wasn’t certain if the woman as reading her mind, or not. Not seeing an opening to attack, she ran away from Mazikeen, her eyes widening when the woman chased after her.

 

“Don’t kick out!” Mazikeen commanded her sharply when she caught Chloe from behind, and kept running forward. “Don’t let me slam you into the wall, climb it!”

 

Chloe panted as she did as instructed, and cried out when she flipped over Mazikeen’s shoulder to land on the ground behind her. Her eyes opened wide seconds before she laughed, and met her opponent’s smile of approval. Mazikeen spent the next thirty minutes with her, teaching her how to use a wall to her advantage when being chased, and trained her how to break away from holds once she’d been caught. For all the fight training she’d received at the academy, Chloe thought, she had learned more from Mazikeen than she had from anyone else.

 

Crying out in surprise when she found herself lifted into the air before being slammed down onto the mat, Chloe looked up into Mazikeen’s playful grin. There were times that the woman reminded her of a cat, and in this instance, Chloe thought, that would make her the mouse. Tackles and takedowns, she thought with a heavy sigh, and pushed back against Mazikeen as she flipped her over onto the mat. If there was one thing she had learned, it was that Mazikeen was very thorough when it came to fight training. Trixie had been telling her for days that the woman had been taking her places, blindfolded, and making her get a feel for her environment without being able to see it.

 

She was going to have bruises tomorrow, she was certain of it, Chloe thought as Mazikeen tackled her to the ground. Grabbing onto the foot the woman was using to keep her pinned to the ground, Chloe brought her legs up and wrapped them around Mazikeen’s legs, unbalancing her as she threw the woman to the mat. Rolling to her feet, Chloe danced back on the mat, her hands held up in a boxer’s pose, as she waited for the next attack. Her feet were swept out from underneath her a few seconds later, and Chloe flipped back on her hands before jumping to her feet as Mazikeen taught her.

 

Chloe panted as she lifted her hand to call for a time out, and bent over, bracing her hands on her thighs as she tried to catch her breath. Nodding as she straightened, she held out her gloved hands, and motioned for her opponent to attack. She didn’t think as she lifted her arm to block Mazikeen’s downward strike, and kicked up with her right knee, catching the woman in the side, only to cry out when Mazikeen swept her legs out from underneath her and knocked her to the ground.

 

“You telegraph your moves,” Mazikeen told her, and Chloe panted as she looked up at her. “You look at the strike points before you hit them. You keep doing that, I’ll win every time.”

 

Reaching out for Mazikeen when she offered her a hand up, Chloe pulled her forward, unbalancing her as she caught her in the stomach with her feet and flipped her over her head. She heard Mazikeen grunt as she landed hard on her back, and laughed as she panted from the exertion of the move. Chloe rolled to her feet a few seconds later, and shook her head with amusement when Mazikeen flipped to her feet. She turned away from Mazikeen, and walked a few steps away, waiting for the attack she knew her opponent would bring.

 

She didn’t have to wait long, Chloe thought as Mazikeen grabbed her from behind, her arm around her throat in a choke hold. Chloe grabbed her arm with one hand as she jammed the elbow of her other arm into Mazikeen’s side. Leaning forward sharply as she spun around, Chloe broke the hold Mazikeen had on her, and grabbed her arm, flipping her to the mat with minimal effort.

 

“You’re getting better,” Mazikeen praised as she stood from the mat. “Faster.”

 

“I feel better,” Chloe said as she nodded.

 

“What?” Mazikeen asked when Chloe frowned.

 

“I don’t know,” she answered, and shook her head. “Gabriel and I were going over the information we’d collected with Bobby yesterday, and we kept finding pieces of codes, but nothing that made any sense. I thought they were chess moves, but when you put them together, they don’t make a full game.”

 

“What were the moves?”

 

Chloe and Mazikeen turned around at the sound of Lucifer’s voice to find him standing in the doorway of the gym. He was leaning back against the door frame with hands in his trouser pockets, an easy grin on his face, and Chloe knew he had been watching them for some time. Shaking her head as she smiled at him, she watched as he pushed away from the door and stepped into the gym. His gaze burned through her as he stepped closer, and she felt a shiver pass through her at the attention he gave her. He arched his brow silently, and she realized he was still waiting for an answer.

 

“W-D-two to d-four, b-d-two to d-four, w-c-two to c-four,” Chloe said, frowning as she pulled on the memory of the notes she’d made.

 

“Queen’s Gambit,” Lucifer said simply, and Chloe shook her head in confusion. “It’s an opening move. White moves their pawns out of the way to allow the Queen freedom. You have to sacrifice a piece to do it, but if done right, that play can be very beneficial. Any others?” he asked, and Chloe nodded.

 

“Let me get my notebook,” she said, and looked down when his gaze traveled over her. “What?”

 

“Two and a half hours of watching you two play,” he said with approval. “You look ravishing, detective,” he told her with a hungry smile.

 

Her eyes widened with humor and disbelief. “Ravishing? I need a shower,” she replied, and stepped past him.

 

“I could help you with that,” he offered, as he followed after her.

 

“Tempting,” Chloe teased him as she moved down the hall. “You’re so predictable,” she laughed when he moved to catch up with her.

 

 

**~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~**

_He tipped his head back against the tree behind him as he stared up into the thick boughs, the leaves rustling and dancing in the wind. He heard the sound of crunching leaves and snapping twigs as Tracker moved toward him, the hellhound more than twice his size. A smile ghosted across his lips when the animal moved to nudge behind him, and Sammy scooted forward to allow the beast to sit between him and the tree._

_Sammy settled back against Tracker’s side as the hellhound wrapped himself around him, the beast’s head and tail lying in front of him to form a circle. He hadn’t spoken in weeks, not since everything had started. At first it had just been nightmares, then the dreams had started while he was awake. But lately, and most prevalently, had been the emotions that he couldn’t account for. The fear that was out of place, but wouldn’t leave him. The pain that came from nowhere and left just as mysteriously, the feeling of being trapped, of being watched. He hadn’t known how to handle any of it._

_He hadn’t known how to tell his mother about any of it, either. There were no words to explain what was happening, what he was feeling or going through, and so he had simply hadn’t said anything at all. And he hadn’t said anything since. Sammy looked up when he heard the sound of rushing wind, and watched as a man appeared before him. The man felt familiar, but he didn’t know why._

_He frowned as his eyes moved away from the man’s face, his eyes widening to see the man’s wings. Sammy’s gaze fell as he remembered the whisper of a voice, a memory that was hard to grab onto, but made him feel so safe that he wanted to fall into it and never come out. He remembered the warm voice that helped him learn how to hide his wings. He remembered the feel of strong arms holding him, comforting him as he was taken into the clouds. Things he had thought were dreams, flights of fancy, became crystal clear inside his mind as the memories came back to him._

_“Hi Sammy,” the man greeted him, and Sammy offered him a half smile in return. “Mind if I sit with you and Tracker?”_

_Sammy shrugged, and reached out for the thick tail that was thumping slowly against the ground in front of him. Tracker lifted his head, looking up at the man as his tail wagged faster, and offered a groaning woof in greeting. Sammy turned, leaning his side against Tracker and sank deeper into his fur as he watched the man sit down next to him._

_“Do you remember me?” he asked, and Sammy nodded. “Do you remember my name?” Sammy shook his head as he remained silent. “My name’s Uriel. I’m your uncle. Like your father, I am an angel. But you, Sammy, you’re part human. That makes you a nephilium.” Uriel sighed as he leaned against Tracker’s side, and looked down at his hands. “Your mom’s worried about you,” he said as he met Sammy’s gaze. “She tells me you haven’t been talking. That you haven’t said a word in months.”_

_Sammy shrugged as he reached out for Tracker’s tail and pulled it into his lap. He played with the hellhound’s fur as he remained quiet. He didn’t have a father, not like the other kids he would see around the town. He didn’t have a home, not really. They were always moving. And this man, Uriel, his uncle, he had only been there a few times._

_“Do you want to tell me what’s going on?” Uriel asked him, and Sammy stilled before shaking his head. “Are you afraid to tell me?” he asked, and Sammy again shook his head. “Maybe we can start small,” he offered, and Sammy turned his head to meet Uriel’s gaze. “Would tell me why you’re not talking? Not what’s happening, or why you stopped, but why you won’t.”_

_Sammy’s eyes fell to the tail in his lap as he pursed his lips, his brow furrowing as he thought about what to say. He sighed as he shrugged, and looked up as he met his uncle’s gaze. He didn’t know how to explain what was happening, why he wasn’t talking, or anything else. The only words he had barely scratched the surface of all that he felt, but it was the only thing he could say._

_“It hurts,” Sammy said, the words spoken with difficulty, his voice rough from disuse._

_“What hurts?” Uriel asked with concern, his attention focused on Sammy. “Sammy, what hurts?” he asked again, when the boy remained silent._

_“Everything,” he said after a long moment. “I have . . . dreams. Even when I’m awake, I have dreams.”_

_“What kind of dreams?” Uriel asked, and Sammy shook his head as he looked down. “Maybe,” Uriel said after a moment with a sigh. “The reason you haven’t been talking is because you don’t know what to say.” Sammy nodded quietly without meeting his gaze. “Would you be willing to let me see?” he asked, and Sammy met his gaze with confusion. “Give me your hands,” Uriel commanded softly when the boy nodded._

Sammy gasped as he woke, his eyes blinking up at the night sky through the cover of the trees. He didn’t remember when he’d fallen asleep, or when Tracker had stopped, but at some point, he had. He hadn’t dreamt about that day in a long time, and pursed his lips as he reached for his backpack. He remembered how it felt when Uncle Uriel had taken his hands, the way the dreams, visions, emotions, and phantom pains had come back to him as clear as the moments they had happened in. Uriel had seen all of it, and in the end, his uncle had told him that not only did he share in his father’s powers, but that he was quite possibly stronger than Gabriel was.

 

“Tracker?” Sammy looked to his side when he felt the hellhound move behind him. “Do you think my dad will be there?” he asked, and watched as Tracker’s ear swiveled back and forth. “Do you think he’ll be with Uncle Lucifer?”

 

Sammy watched as Tracker studied him quietly, only to still. His ears moved back and forth, searching for a sound that only he could hear. The boy was jostled when Tracker stood suddenly, his movements fast and fierce as he stared out into the forest around them and growled low. Whatever the sound was, the hellhound didn’t like it, and Sammy frowned as he stared in the same direction that Tracker was. There was nothing that he could see, but the boy watched as Tracker’s eyes glowed crimson, seconds before his ears folded back against his head as he lifted his nose into the air and howled.

 

The sound was loud enough to vibrate the ground he stood on, and Sammy didn’t hesitate as he put his backpack on and scrambled onto Tracker’s back. He didn’t know what was happening, but he had a feeling that the hellhound protecting him wasn’t about to wait, or hold back. Tracker howled again, and Sammy couldn’t silence the thought that the beast sounded happy, almost like he was responding to someone. As soon as he was settled behind Tracker’s shoulders with his knees gripping the hellhound’s sides, and his hands fisted in the beast’s thick fur, Tracker shot off into the night.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~**

It hadn’t started out like this, she thought as she walked into her office and sat down behind the desk. In the beginning, it had been small things, little favors, questions that seemed harmless, and meaningless. She hadn’t even realized how deep she had fallen into the business until it was a hundred miles past too late to get out. There was a part of her that had grown cold and dark in the face of all she had done, a part of her that didn’t care what happened to the children she’d all but gift wrapped for the organization. But there was another part, albeit a smaller and quieter part, that whispered to her from the back of her mind, reminding her why she had gone into social work to begin with.

 

She had been one of those kids. Her parents had been killed in a car accident when she was six months old. She hadn’t even been old enough to remember them, and there had been no keepsakes to hold onto. She had grown up in the system, moving from house to house, and foster family to foster family. She had been transferred from group home to orphanage to state run facility. She had grown up in Dearborn, Michigan and graduated high school in Denver, Colorado. There had never once been anything stable, or safe in her life.

 

That had been why she had gone into social work, she thought, as she tucked the thick sheaf of papers into the manila envelope. Pulling a twin pocket folder in front of her, she opened it and looked through the glossy pictures tucked inside. There had been a time when she’d thought she would become a hero to those like her, and instead, she had become something worse than the monster they all feared. She had become the one who delivered the prey to the monster. Closing the folder, she tucked it inside the envelope, and pulled a sheet of printer paper to her as she reached for a pen.

 

_Detective Decker,_

_It has come to my attention that you are the one spear-heading this case. It seems only fitting that you would be the one to bring this organization to its knees considering that you were the only child to escape with your life. Where so many others fell and perished, you rose and thrived. Who I am, doesn’t matter. Through my ambitions to become a savior, I instead became a faceless monster._

_Inside this envelope, you will find copies of shipping orders, tracking information, names, dates, and so many numbers, only a few of which I have been able to decode for you. In this business, I was known as a Queen. The one piece on the chess board powerful enough to move any place she wanted, but vulnerable enough to recognize the advantage of mastering subterfuge._

_I was the direct second to the Director of Children and Family Services for Los Angeles County. I held that same position for well over twenty-five years. I used my position to cherry pick children who wouldn’t be missed, and others who, in time, would be forgotten. I was the one who selected you all those years ago. I provided your name to my contact in the Glendale School District, and he, in turn, supplied your name to the D.A.R.E. officer who marked you for abduction._

_Everything that happened is of my own doing, and I know where my soul will go when I die. Even God has saw fit to punish me while I still live for all that I’ve done. By the time you receive this package, I will already be dead. Osteosarcoma. It is quite possibly the most painful way to go, and I have come to the end of my tether._

_Do what I was too selfish to, Detective. Do what I was too stupid to. Use what I have given you here, and bring these monsters to justice._

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~**

Maribeth Coggs, the man thought with a frown as he crossed her name off the list. She had been the longest standing member of the organization in this region, but then again, the Queens always did last longer than anyone else. They were recruited for their positions within the offices of the Department of Child and Family Services all across the nation. Each one was brought in slowly, eased into the organization with small favors that seemed innocuous at first, and grew over time until there was no way out except death.

 

Most never had a problem with what they were asked to do, and didn’t give a second thought to the children they singled out for the organization. But Maribeth, it seemed, had a crisis of conscience with her impending death. Terminal illness will do that to a person, he thought as he looked up at the knock on his office door.

 

“Report,” he commanded of the young man standing in the open doorway.

 

“There is a possibility that the Queen betrayed us,” the man said. “Her watcher is dead. A clean shot to his heart, and from the way her house looks now after the boys went through it searching for any information she may have, it looks like a home invasion.”

 

“In other words, the police won’t investigate his death,” the man said, and shook his head. “She always was a step ahead.”

 

“Bishop,” the man called to him, using the only name he was known by within the organization. “She left behind a note, but what she chose to write the note on, gives me a clue as to where she may have sent the information.”

 

Bishop arched his brow as he took the computer printout from the man and read the note Maribeth had left behind. _‘It may be the devil who commands my afterlife, but he will not enslave my soul.’_ Closing his eyes as he turned the paper over, his attention was drawn by the photo of the man and woman standing next to each other. He looked more than proud, his attention focused on the woman by his side while she looked to be an odd combination of annoyed and amused. She was smiling, but even Bishop knew that her expression was only intended for the man her eyes were on.

 

“One of LAPDs top homicide detectives, and a club owner with the devil’s name. An unlikely, but beneficial pairing,” he read the headline aloud. “You think she sent the information to them, Watcher?” he asked as he looked up at the man standing before him.

 

“More specifically,” he said as he nodded to the paper in the man’s hand. “To her. Detective Chloe Decker.”

 

“Why is that name familiar?” Bishop asked, and frowned as he studied Chloe’s picture.

 

“Watchers are all trained at the main facility,” he reminded Bishop. “We're the ones responsible for making certain that there are no mistakes, and we are each told the story of one Chloe Decker. _She_ was one of the _biggest_ mistakes.”

 

Bishop shook his head as he frowned. He had heard rumors and whispers, but never enough to be able to put a story together before. He knew there was something important to the name, but he didn’t know what exactly it was.

 

“Close to thirty years ago, Chloe Decker was marked as a prime target. She was high on the list of Belles because of her test scores, her disposition, and her beauty, but there was a catch,” he said, and met Bishop’s gaze. “Chloe was the daughter of a very prominent police officer. He had started to put the pieces together of what was happening with the organization, he didn’t know much, but he knew enough.”

 

“The children of law enforcement are off limits,” Bishop said with confusion. “I know I’ve only been part of this for the past ten years, but that has always been a hard and fast rule.”

 

“Not always,” Watcher told him. “Chloe Decker is why that rule was created. She was taken, but her abduction was botched. She was with another girl, a child that was not an active target, but had to be taken in order to keep from drawing undue attention. They were taken to another city far away, a break house,” he said, and tipped his head. “That was back before they kept it all under one roof. It was thought that having a separate place to break their spirits in would make it easier when they moved them onto another location for training.”

 

“What happened?” Bishop asked, and watched the man purse his lips.

 

“Chloe happened,” he said simply. “She pretended to be unconscious, even held her breath for almost two minutes, as far as the story goes. They untied her, believing they would need to perform CPR, and, as they say, she fought like a demon. She broke out through a window, ran for the woods, and even with the dogs chasing her, she was still able to get away. That one child is reason why our facilities are now in warehouses with nothing but abandoned properties on all sides. No place for them to run if they do get away, and the stray dogs around these parts are mad with hunger. A kid gets out, they don’t go far before getting ripped apart by a hungry animal looking for a meal.”

 

“Is she the detective the organization sent a hunter after?” he asked, and watched the man nod.

 

“Any dealings with those that need to be silenced are kept quiet. Watchers, like myself, are tasked with infiltrating the local law enforcement offices to see if anyone’s nosing around too much, and if they are, we report their names to the Grand Master. The Grand Master sends those names to the Dutchman, and he sends out a hunter.” The watcher sighed as his brows lifted and fell in shrug. “Chloe was sent a warning, one which she ignored. The person working with her, supplying her the information was killed, but it has yet to stop her investigation. The Grand Master sends his regards, and a message,” he told Bishop. “Ship out what finished product you can, destroy the rest. In seventy-two hours, this facility will be demolished.”

 

Both men looked toward the window at the sound of a two-toned eerie howl, the song loud and low as it seemed to issue a warning. A shiver passed through Bishop as the other man stood, and he met his gaze.

 

“Watch yourselves tonight,” he offered the warning. “As far as we know, this facility is still unknown to anyone that could bring trouble for us, but that doesn’t mean that someone isn’t watching. And, if you need to, throw any bad product outside for the beasts. They sound hungry tonight.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~**

Chloe’s lips turned up in a quiet smile as she listened to the sound of Hunter and Shadow. She knew they were downstairs, outside of the club in the streets below. For the past week, they’d been going out at night, patrolling around the city and howling into the night skies. It was a romantic notion, the thought that they were calling for someone. In a way, she thought they sounded happy, welcoming, as though whatever was coming would be a positive change.

 

“Does that seem odd to you?” Chloe asked curiously as she bent down to turn on the shower.

 

“What?” Lucifer asked as he followed her into the bathroom, and sat down on the settee along the wall across from the sunken Roman tub, his attention split between the notes she had given him, and the woman preparing to shower.

 

“Hunter and Shadow,” Chloe said as she removed her sweat-soaked sports bra and shorts. “The past week, they’ve been howling at night. They sound happy, but I don’t remember them ever howling like that before.”

 

“No, they’re just calling for Tracker,” he replied, giving no thought to the implications of his words. “I could help you shower,” he offered her with a grin, and was answered by her laugh.

 

“I’m pretty sure that if you stepped in here, I’d need a shower _after_ our shower,” she told him with an amused stare. “Besides, you were supposed to be giving me your insight on the codes.”

 

Lucifer sighed as his brows rose and fell in a shrug, and returned his attention to the notebook in his hands. The codes were familiar, but they repeated in a way that wouldn’t happen under normal circumstance. Chess pieces, yes. A chess board even, yes. But a game of chess? Not likely.

 

“I can understand the confusion,” Lucifer called out to Chloe as she stepped beneath the hot spray of the shower. “The codes do refer to a chess board, and their pieces, but most of these are not chess moves at all.”

 

“What are they?” Chloe called out over the water, and Lucifer looked up from her notebook, watching her profile through the steam as she rinsed her hair.

 

“I’m not sure,” he said, as he blinked and looked back down to her notebook. “These moves show a rook and a knight moving together as if they were one piece, but there’s no chess move that allows for that. And you’ve got a Bishop that appears to be dictating the movements of a King, a Queen, and at least three pawns. It’s chess, but it’s not a game of chess.”

 

“We’ve tried putting the codes together on a chess board,” Chloe called to him over the water, and Lucifer felt himself tighten as he watched her wash her leg. “But none of it fits. There are too many pieces in one space.”

 

“To be that loofa,” he thought aloud as he watched her with a heated stare.

 

“What?” she called out, and he cleared his throat.

 

“Have you tried using a map?” he asked her, and met her confused stare when she poked her head out of the glass walled shower.

 

“A map?” she asked.

 

“Yes, detective. A map,” he repeated. “If you overlay a chess board onto a map, the quadrants on the board would line up with quadrants on a map. There may be some variations in numbers, or locations, but for the most part, it should line up perfectly.”

 

“I thought about it,” Chloe said as she returned to her shower, and closed the glass door. “The problem is: which map? I don’t know what city to be looking in.”

 

“Could try Los Angeles,” he offered the thought, and looked up when the water shut off.

 

“I suppose I could,” Chloe said as she stepped from the shower with a towel wrapped around her.

 

“You’re going right back to work on the case now, aren’t you?” he asked her with exasperated amusement.

 

“Yup,” she agreed, and he shook his head. “I feel like I’m really close to something here. I just don’t know what it is.”

 

“Good something, or bad something?” he asked, standing from the settee as he followed her back into the bedroom they shared.

 

“I don’t know,” she replied with a shake of her head. “But whatever it is, it feels big.”

 

“What?” he asked when her gaze slipped to the side as she stared into space, lost in her own thoughts.

 

“Dictating moves,” she said, repeating what he had said a few moments earlier. “What if the chess pieces represent players – positions – in the organization? Then having so many together in one area, and one piece seeming to dictate the moves of others, it would make sense.”

 

“Possibly,” he responded slowly, and studied her through narrowed eyes.

 

“A rook is a castle, it moves side to side, or up and down, but never diagonally,” she said thoughtfully.

 

“Yes,” he hedged, uncertain as to where she was going with her analogy.

 

“A knight has always been the symbol of a fighter, or a protector. But if they’re moving together,” she said, and looked up to meet his gaze.

 

“A courier of something important, and a guard,” he finished her thought, and she nodded. “The Bishop?” he asked, curious to see where her train of thought would go.

 

“Diagonal moves, always moving across the board, and one of the first pieces to make a move on the Queen. My dad used to say that a person who knew how to use a Bishop properly could command a board while making it look like the bishop was barely doing anything at all,” she told him, and Lucifer tipped his head as he smiled with dark wonder.

 

“A single move of the bishop can command the opposing King from across the board,” he said almost angrily as he shook his head. “It almost commands respect, the way these _people_ have formed themselves into this evil entity. They just never counted on you coming after them.”

 

“No one ever does,” Chloe said, a smile playing on her lips as she looked up at him. “We might just be able to stop them after all,” she told him with a smile.

 

 

 

 

 

~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The warm night breeze blew in over the balcony, stirring the fur over his back gently as Hunter lifted his head and looked toward the world outside. Even at the midnight hour, Los Angeles was not quiet. Cars drove past on the streets below, horns honking, and people talking. He could hear the faint noises of the city that his human charges were deaf to. Even Lucifer and Mazikeen were ignorant of the noises, he thought as he stretched out his neck and shook his head.

 

Hunter stood from where he’d been laying against the clear glass railing, and walked leisurely across the penthouse until he reached his charge’s side. Chloe had fallen asleep again on top of the papers she’d been working with. The hellhound couldn’t help but wonder how much of a strain this was having on her. The fragments of souls that he could smell from the pieces of evidence, the pictures, and papers she constantly looked through were enough to drive him to distraction, but Chloe was human. There was so much darkness, but there was an even greater amount of innocence crying out for help. Could she feel their cries, he wondered as he studied the human before him.

 

Lying down on the floor beside her, Hunter nudged his way underneath Chloe until most of her weight was on him. Pushing up slowly, he stood from the floor, making certain to keep his human balanced on his back as he walked away from the low coffee table. Making a soft chuffing sound, he turned his head back to look at Chloe, his tall ears swiveling as he listened for any sounds coming from her. She was still asleep, he thought with some relief, and carried her through the penthouse until he reached the room she shared with Lucifer.

 

It didn’t take him long to climb onto the bed, and he laid down before slowly moving out from underneath her. Lucifer was still downstairs in the club, entertaining the humans as he did almost every night, but tonight was different. Hunter wasn’t sure exactly what his master was planning, but he did know that Lucifer seemed to have been distancing himself from them in the past few days. Did she feel it, too, he wondered as he stared at Chloe for a moment longer before turning away from the bed.

 

It was too much, Hunter thought as he moved down the hall to Trixie’s room, and nudged the door open with his muzzle. He _needed_ to be able to take the strain off of Chloe. It was his duty to protect her, and the more time she spent with the files, the more strained she seemed to be, and the more he felt that he was failing in his protection of her. Issuing a soft whine as he clicked his teeth, Hunter watched as Shadow opened her eyes and lifted her head to meet his gaze.

 

He watched as Shadow tipped her head, and low groaning whine sounding from her as she thumped her tail lightly against the blankets. Hunter rolled the air in the back of his throat, an almost growl, coming from him in response, and Shadow was quick to move away from her charge to follow him. He led her out to the main room of the penthouse, back to the files and evidence Chloe had been working with. Shadow followed his lead as he searched the files, pictures, and plastic pouches for a scent he could follow.

 

There were three scents he could make out the strongest, one dark soul, and two innocents. He looked up at Shadow, and watched her nod. She had caught a few scents as well. It was time, he thought, and released a breathy commanding bark. Shadow responded in kind, and followed him to the elevator. He pressed the button to call the lift with his nose, and stepped inside the car when it opened. Shadow lifted up on her back legs, her tail wagging with excitement as she fairly pounced on the button for the bottom floor.

 

Whispers and ribbons of darkness swirled up around their paws, engulfing the two hellhounds in shadows until they were unseen. The mortals were none the wiser to them as they stepped from the elevator, and Hunter led the way to the alley door of the club, nudging it open as he stepped into the night, Shadow at his side. Turning his nose up into the air, Hunter released a loud baying howl, Shadow following suit, and seconds later the great beasts raced off into the night as they chased their quarry. The hunt had begun.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~**

Gabriel frowned as he looked up from the file he’d been reading. Narrowing his eyes as he looked toward the window, he stood from his seat on the couch and moved toward the door. Humans would call it coyotes, wolves, even wild dogs, anything to make sense of the sound that was an unearthly two-toned pitch. The howl was loud and long, a call to arms, and a warning to the prey being hunted. Lucifer would have told him if he’d sent the hounds out on a hunt, which meant that Shadow and Hunter were out of their own accord. He didn’t need to look at the screen as he pulled his ringing phone from his pocket, his brother’s name on the display, and answered the call.

 

“I was just about to call you,” Gabriel said in lieu of greeting. “Can you hear them?”

 

“Yes,” Lucifer said simply. “Chloe and Beatrice are safe, I don’t know what they’re hunting.”

 

“I think I do,” Gabriel replied. “Stay put, I’ll call you as soon as I know anything,” he said, and ended the call.

 

“Gabe?” Olivia called to him as he tucked his phone back into his pocket. “What’s that sound?”

 

“The hellhounds,” he told her simply. “They’re on someone’s trail. I’ve got to go. Keep the door locked, ‘Liv. Don’t let anyone in. You and Sophia are still in danger.”

 

“We’ll be fine,” she assured him, and he nodded.

 

“I know you will be,” he returned.

 

Gabriel slipped out the front door, waiting to hear Olivia turn the deadbolt before he ran for the cover of the trees and took to the air. He followed the howls as he stroked the air with his wings, pushing himself to fly faster as he rose higher in the sky. Narrowing his eyes on the ground below, he watched as Shadow rammed her shoulder into the side of a car as she ran, using the full weight of her body to force the car off the road.

 

He dove for the ground, landing effortlessly as he watched the great beast grab onto the door of the car with her jaws, the metal bending and breaking beneath her powerful teeth. Ripping the door from its frame, she tossed it aside, and advanced on the driver. For just a second, Gabriel told himself he should be worried about the human, but the thought was rejected as soon as it appeared. Hellhounds were much like the devil himself. They protected the innocent and punished evil. Whoever this human was, he had not only earned her wrath, but the devil’s as well.

 

“Shadow,” Gabriel called to her as he stepped forward into the light of a street lamp. “Show me,” he commanded when she turned her head to look back at him. “I wouldn’t, if I were you,” Gabriel cautioned the human when he struggled with his seat belt. “Shadow ran your car off the road. Do you really want her coming after you when you run on foot? She is not forgiving,” he warned.

 

Gabriel arched a brow in silent amusement when the man simply shook his head and held his hands up. Turning away from the driver, Gabriel followed Shadow to the back of the car, and watched as she clawed at the trunk. The metal bent beneath her claws, large tracks ripped into the metal at the latch of the trunk until the lid popped free. Gabriel stilled as he looked down to see three small children bound, gagged, and blindfolded in the trunk.

 

His anger turned to fury when he reached inside and touched the children. They looked asleep, but at his touch they roused. He shushed them gently as he removed their blindfolds and bindings. Soothing their fears as he lifted them from the trunk one by one, he set them on Shadow’s back and encouraged them to hold onto each other, and her fur.

 

“I want to go home,” the little girl in the front said, her voice trembling and frightened.

 

“We’re going to get you there, sweetheart,” Gabriel promised her. “Shadow won’t let anything happen to you. She’ll keep you safe. I know she might look frightening, but she’s very gentle with little ones like you.” He stepped in front of Shadow and bent at the waist, his hands cradling her jaws as he touched his brow to hers before standing straight once more. “You did good this night. Take these innocent souls to Lucifer. He will see them safely home.”

 

Encouraging the children to hold on tight, he commanded Shadow to leave, and watched as she took off at a dead run. Her howl rang out, the sound one of success and happiness, and he nodded as he watched her disappear into the night. Turning back to the car, Gabriel caught the man when he tried to run and slammed him back against the car.

 

“There are two ways this can go,” he told the man simply. “There’s the easy way, where you give up all the names in the operation, and the location of where you were headed, plus any others that you know, willingly.”

 

“And if I don’t?” the man shot back, bravado covering his fear.

 

“Well, that’s where my friend, Mazikeen comes in,” Gabriel said with a grin as he shrugged. “She’s really quite something. And,” he added with a smile. “She has been a bit bored lately.”

 

The man scoffed. “I ain’t talkin’ and I’m not afraid of some chick.”

 

Gabriel shook his head as he grinned. “Mazikeen it is,” he said, and chuckled. “I can’t wait to see what she does when you call her a ‘chick’. She’s not too fond of that word.” Taking his phone from his pocket, Gabriel dialed Lucifer’s number and waited. “Hello, brother,” he greeted.

 

“What have you found?” Lucifer asked, and Gabriel chuckled.

 

“A present for Maze,” he said with amusement. “I’ve got a man here who kidnapped a few children. Shadow’s on her way to you with them now. But this man won’t talk, and I know Maze has been a bit bored lately.”

 

“She’s already on her way,” Lucifer replied, and Gabriel could hear the smile in his brother’s tone. “And Hunter?”

 

“I don’t know, yet,” Gabriel returned. “Shadow was closer, and Hunter’s gone silent.”

 

“He’s stalking his prey then. Could mean he’s found more than one,” Lucifer said. “Let me wake Chloe, and then Amenadiel and I will join you. I do believe the hounds grew tired of not being included in this hunt.”

 

“It would appear so,” Gabriel said, and knocked the man he was holding unconscious before letting him fall to the ground. “I don’t know how we’re going to explain his car. Shadow ripped the door off and clawed the trunk open. There’s no mistaking what the markings are, and no way of explaining them to the humans.”

 

“Leave it, let the humans think what they will,” Lucifer commanded simply.

 

Gabriel tucked his phone back into his pocket a few seconds later, and looked down at the man crumpled at his feet. If the hellhounds wanted to get involved in this hunt, Gabriel thought, he more than welcomed them. There was no hiding the scent of a person from them, no destroying evidence, or getting away due to the lack of a paper trail. Hellhounds would track a soul no matter where it went, dead or alive. If the person tried to kill themselves to get away, or were killed in the process of a hunt, these hounds would chase them to Hell, and terrorize their afterlife.

 

“The benefit of a hellhound,” he said with a touch of amusement. “I should have joined forces with you years ago, brother.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~**

The concrete was cold beneath his paws, the cracks in the pavement speaking to the age and abandonment of the area. Hunter’s eyes glowed red as he looked up at the warehouse across the street from him, a low growl rolling from his throat as great tufts of smoke came from his nose. The louder he heard the innocent souls inside crying out for help, the angrier he got, and the stronger he pulled on the fires of Hell. His face changed, fur and skin missing from one side as his jaw and fangs were shown in stark contrast covered only by twisted tendon and muscles.

 

His crimson glare snapped to the side as movement caught his eye, and he stilled as he narrowed his gaze. He growled low as his demonic countenance was hidden away, the red glow fading to leave his eyes dark as night. Lifting his nose into the air, he sniffed at the soul that moved in the darkness, only to release a snarling bark as he sped forward at breakneck speed. He didn’t stop or slow down as he caught the loose clothing in his teeth and dashed back across the street to hide in the trees once more.

 

Hunter set the child down as he slowed to a stop, and sat on his haunches as he waited for the child’s fear to abate. She turned around slowly, her eyes wide and face pale as she stared at him. He waited quietly, tilting his head to one side as he swiveled his ears to listen for the noises around them, he offered the child a low whine. She folded her hands together beneath her chin, her lips parted as she took in shallow pants, and moved toward him slowly.

 

“Are you a good puppy?” she asked, and Hunter nodded his head slowly, his eyes locked with hers. “Can you take me home?”

 

Hunter nodded again, and stretched his head toward her when she reached out to pet him. He rubbed his nose against her neck, soothing her like a pup when she hugged her arms around his neck. Issuing a soft bark in warning as his ears swiveled to catch the sounds behind him, he snapped his head back to look behind him and snarled dangerously. He turned back just as quickly when he felt his charge’s fear spike, and nudged her back into the shadows at the base of a tree. The short rolling growl was understood by the child, and he watched her nod as she sat on the ground and pulled her knees to her chest.

 

Stepping closer to her, he lowered his head and rubbed the flat top of his head against her until she lifted her hands to hug him. Releasing a low steady rumble, he let her hold onto him until she relaxed and leaned back against the tree behind her. Lifting his head away from her, he watched her for a moment longer before turning away. He left her by the tree as he ran a half mile in the distance to an old junkyard, and climbed to the top of a stack of cars.

 

Hunter took in a deep breath, filling his lungs as the air rolled in the back of his throat. Lifting his nose into the air, he released a long low howl, the two-toned song eerie and chilling as he called Shadow to his side. He had found their quarry, the warehouse holding three times as innocent souls as it held dark souls. He released another loud howl, the sound cutting off into a snarling bark when he heard the flap of wings.

 

“Hunter!” Gabriel called to him, and the hellhound met the angel’s gaze as his eyes flashed crimson. “Shadow is leading Lucifer and the others here,” he said as he folded his wings, and landed on the ground below. “Show me,” he commanded, and Hunter leapt to the ground almost fifty feet below.

 

Hunter raced toward the stand of trees he had left the child at, his ears folded back against his head as he ran. He could feel Gabriel behind him, the angel’s light a calming balm on his already strained nerves. He stopped beside the child, sniffing at her before nodding to himself when he found her awake, but quietly waiting. Turning his head up to look at Gabriel, he issued a low chuffing sound, and led Gabriel to the edge of the broken sidewalk. Tipping his head up toward the warehouse across the street, he looked up at the angel by his side.

 

“Hide yourself,” Gabriel commanded, and Hunter growled low as his eyes glowed crimson, ribbons of darkness rising from beneath his paws to hide him in the shadows. “Follow me.”

 

Hunter moved alongside Gabriel, following the angel’s lead as they walked into the warehouse. No one turned to look at them, no one noticed that they were there, or that a door had been opened. Hunter’s eyes burned as they glowed crimson, his gaze scanning the open room once, twice, and a third time as he counted. Fifteen dark souls, he thought, his hackles rising in the presence of evil. He braced his paws against the floor as his muscles tensed in preparation to attack.

 

“No,” Gabriel said, and placed his hand on Hunter’s shoulders. “If you attack now, we lose the innocent souls. Find the ones that can be separated easily, get them out quietly. Go.”

 

He didn’t wait for another command as he darted forward, his form unseen by the humans around him. There were close to thirty trunks lining the left wall, each one locked with a padlock, with three small holes drilled into the lids to allow for air to pass through. Each trunk contained one terrified innocent soul, some of them more dimmed than the others, and he knew their light was dying. Turning back to look around him, he watched the human males milling about and waited until they were turned away from him.

 

It was their arrogance that made this easy, he thought, as he wrapped his teeth around one of the locks and crushed it in his jaws. Dropping the lock to the ground, he broke the latch of the trunk with one swipe of his paw, and nudged the lid open with his nose. The child inside was bound, blindfolded, and gagged. She couldn’t move on her own, and he knew she wouldn’t be able to climb out of the box. Turning his head back to look behind him, Hunter knew he didn’t have much time, and reached into the trunk.

 

Hunter was careful as he gripped the child gently in his massive jaws, and lifted her from the box she’d been trapped in. She didn’t move, she didn’t struggle, or make any noise at all. If not for the feel of her soul and the scent of her life, he would have believed her to be dead. Turning back to look for Gabriel, he watched as the angel moved toward the door and held it open for him. He didn’t hesitate as he shot forward, racing for the exit as he held the child safely in his teeth.

 

He didn’t stop running until he had reached the tree where he’d left the other child, and set the girl in his jaws down on the ground beside her. These two children were smaller, younger, than Trixie, and the thought that they had been terrorized in such a manner enraged him. He nudged the other girl gently, watching as she woke, and reached down to carefully cut the bindings around the other child’s ankles, thighs, wrists and torso with his teeth.

 

“Go,” the little girl said to him as she pulled the sleeping child to her. “Go be a hero.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will be the companion piece to "Little Girl Lost" entitled "Belle of the Ball". You've waited long enough, now those who need to, go reread Little Girl Lost


	30. Chapter 29: "Belle of the Ball"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Belle of the Ball" is the companion piece to Chapter 21 "Little Girl Lost".

AN: Lucifer and all recognizable characters belong to Jerry Bruckheimer and FOX television. Set post 'Take Me Back to Hell'. . (Written prior to the start of season 2.)

Summary: There is only one thing that can make an immortal vulnerable, only one thing that can hurt an angel aside from another angel - their mate. It was only a rumor, a baseless myth, something Amenadiel had never believed, until it happened to Lucifer.

 

 

 

 

Memento Mori

Chapter 29

**_"Belle of the Ball"_ **

The companion chapter to "Little Girl Lost"

 by WhisperingWolf

**_****There is no clean version of this chapter. You have been warned.****_ **

 

 

 

The floors of the club had been scrubbed to a hospital's standard of clean, and then polished until they shone like mirrors beneath his feet. Tables and booths that took up the front lower section of the club had been moved and pushed to the far side of the room. They had been placed carefully, making it look as though they were meant to be there. The oversized photos of musical instruments, and artistic naked silhouettes that normally hung on the walls had been replaced with still images of Trixie's favorite scenes from Beauty and the Beast, Little Mermaid, Cinderella, Frozen, Anastasia, and Tangled. Of all the images, he thought as he studied them, the scene of Flynn Rider and Rapunzel in the boat beneath the floating lanterns was his favorite.

When he had first called in his favor from Savannah, an interior designer of unmatched talent, his idea had been to redress LUX as one of the ballrooms from a single movie. He had given her the names of Trixie's favorite films, but in the end, his indecision had been Savannah's inspiration. A specialized frame had been installed in the ceiling, a structure that would be removed after the night was over, and would not impede, or damage the existing lights. From the frame, a chandelier hung, the strings of Austrian crystals and tear drop rainbow quartz were accented by tall taper candles surrounded by clear glass chimneys.

He looked back over his shoulder when he heard footsteps behind him, and arched a brow as he was greeted by the amused look of his lead security man. Rocky's grin widened as he stepped around the bar and set the elongated lighter down on the polished wood, the long metal pipe bent to fit into the open tops of the chimneys. There was at least half an hour before the candles in the chandelier would need to be lit, and while he may look calm and carefree, he had been watching all of the preparations like a hawk.

"You have something to say?" Lucifer asked as he looked back out at the club, following a line of gossamer fabric from where it hung from the ceiling to where it twisted in delicate curls around the banister of the balcony.

"I'm pretty sure that every single one of the women working here are completely enamored with you now," Rocky told him casually. "To do all of this for one little girl," he mused, his eyes blinking wide as he shook his head and stared out at the storybook ballroom the club had been turned into. "You're the fairytale they all dreamed about."

Lucifer watched the man walk away, the lighter once more in his hand. He followed Rocky with his eyes as he moved across the room to light the large three-wick candles that sat on the tables in the back of the club. Soft chatter from three of his waitresses sounded behind him, and he turned his eyes to watch as they each carried large flat bowls of water, smooth flat pebbles of colored glass at the bottom. Floating candles of pearl white and crimson, carved into the shapes of fully bloomed roses sat on top of the water, dancing in the soft waves created when the bowls were carefully set down.

Three more of his wait staff came from the back, each carrying a number of silver candelabras of varying design. The candelabras were set down on tables throughout the club, white taper candles added to each, but for the moment, left unlit. He looked up as the door of the club opened, Mazikeen stepping inside with a small bag in her hand. She waved it at him as though it were a trophy, and he nodded with the knowledge that she had found the music for the evening. She had been on the quest for the music for the dance since the beginning, but had found trouble locating what was needed. For weeks, she had maintained that there was no single disc that fit the bill, but then two days ago she had told him she had found what was needed.

"How far did you have to go to find the music?" he asked her when she stepped up to lean back against the bar beside him.

"Not that far," she said with a grin. "No one store had what I wanted, so I reached out to that band that owed you a favor. They just finished working on their latest album."

"The band?" he asked with incredulity. "Stitch These Wounds?" he asked. "That band?"

"Yes," she told him with a grin. "Andy, his band, and his wife, Jewels, were more than happy to help put this together, with the condition that he got to keep a copy of the album they created for his daughter. I didn't see any problem with it. They do write their own music," she reminded him. "And while they may be a punk rock, metal band, each one of them seemed more than happy to return your favor by doing this. Don't worry," she said, deflecting whatever he had been about to say. "I listened to everything. It's beautifully done."

He watched her walk away, moving toward the backroom where the sound system was kept. She grinned when she reappeared, amused to no end by what he had been planning for, and how the club had been transformed. He knew that in some part she understood why he was doing all of this, but there was a greater part of her that had thought it would have been better to simply torture Dan a bit more and let the child watch. For all of her emotional growth, there were still moments when he was reminded that she was most undoubtedly a demon.

"The music is queued," Mazikeen told him. "All you have to do is hit the switch," she said, nodding to the switch hidden under his piano. "Amenadiel and I will be picking up Trixie from school," she said, and grinned. "Whether you planned them to coincide, or not, today is her last round of the testing and then the school's going to put everything together and see where she fits."

"Our young Beatrice has been assigned so many tests," he said with a sigh, and shook his head.

"Amenadiel asked her teacher about that this morning when we dropped her off," Mazikeen told him, reaching behind her for the bottle of whiskey below the bar, and poured herself a shot. "It would seem that the reason they keep giving her the tests is because she keeps passing them. They're trying to find a test that she doesn't pass to see where best to start her out at."

"And to think, we've had a budding genius hiding underneath our noses this whole time," he mused with a tilt of his head.

"I find it interesting that her own teacher never saw it," Mazikeen said, as she leaned back against the bar. "Her substitute picked up on it right away." Tipping her glass to her lips, she drank down the last of her whiskey, and set her glass aside. "Where's Chloe?" she asked as she looked around the club. "I thought with all of the planning she would want to be here to help . . . " Her voice trailed off as she turned to look at Lucifer with wide eyes, amusement and triumph in her gaze. "Chloe doesn't know?!" she asked with a surprised laugh. "You're surprising her as well?"

"I suppose I am," he answered, his brows rising and falling in a shrug as he watched his staff work under Savannah's direction. "Hadn't truly thought about that," he admitted, and turned his attention back to Mazikeen. "And Beatrice?"

"She's still in the dark about what the dress fittings actually are," Mazikeen told him with a grin. "I've kept her blindfolded as you've asked, and though she's curious, she also thinks it's part of her awareness training."

"How is she coming along with all of that?" he asked curiously.

"She's damn quick to learn new things, and her attention to detail is spot on. I'm really quite proud of her," she said, and looked up at the top of the stairs when the club doors opened. "It's time," she mused with a laugh. "Between the salon and the dressmaker's, it should take us a few hours to get back here."

"Maze," Lucifer called out, his tone curious when she moved to the stairs. "I only gave you a list of six songs that had to be included. What others did you add in?"

"Guess you'll just have to wait and see," she answered, with a teasing grin as she ascended the stairs.

"It would appear we both have our surprises," he said to himself as Mazikeen disappeared out of the club.

 

 

 

**~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~**

Trixie sighed as she stared at the page in front of her in confusion. Her eyes narrowed as she focused on the word she didn't understand, and the rest of the sentence it was used in. On some level, she understood the meaning of what it might be simply from how it was used, but she didn't understand enough of what it meant to answer the question the whole statement asked. Lifting her head, she turned her eyes to the woman who was proctoring the tests she was being given, and raised her hand to draw the woman's attention.

"Yes, Miss Espinosa?" the woman said as she looked up from her desk.

"Could I borrow a dictionary?" Trixie asked. "I don't understand this word," she said, and watched as the woman smiled.

"Most kids, even high schoolers," she told Trixie, "would ask me to tell them what the word meant, but you want a dictionary?" she asked with an amused arch of her brow.

"There might be other words I don't know," Trixie reasoned. "Plus, the definition of the word may have another word I don't know."

"Oh, I'm not denying your request," she told her as she stood to hand her a small red and white paperback copy of Webster's Dictionary. "I'm just impressed. What's the word?" she asked curiously as Trixie took the book from her.

"That one," Trixie said with a frown as she pointed to the word.

"Ah," she nodded, and knelt next to the table Trixie was working at. "I tell you want, why don't you tell me what you _think_ it means, and I'll tell you if you're right."

The deal seemed as good as any, and Trixie nodded. "Where it's placed in the sentence, makes me think it means 'because'," Trixie said, and watched the woman nod.

"You're very close," she told Trixie with a smile, and met her gaze. "It's Latin, the word 'ergo' means therefore. It's kind of like 'because', but it's more like 'if this, then this'," she said, and Trixie frowned. "Think of it like . . . you were sick; _therefore,_ you didn't go to school," she said, and Trixie furrowed her brow as she considered the woman's words before nodding.

"Ok," Trixie said, and nodded as she smiled. "Thank you!"

"Of course," she returned, and stood. "You've got another hour allotted for that test," she reminded Trixie as she returned to her desk.

Looking down at the soft thump she felt against her chair, Trixie narrowed her eyes as she stared at the space next to her chair. She couldn't see Shadow, but she knew the hellhound was there beside her, and moved her arm carefully out to the side until she felt fur against her skin. Smiling as she remembered to keep her amusement silent, she looked around to make sure no one was watching her, before she stroked her hand over Shadow's fur. To anyone else, it would look like she was petting the air, but she knew her friend was there with her.

Returning her attention to her test, she picked up her pencil and began writing her answer for the essay question. Jane Eyre had been an interesting book, but her favorite part of it had been sitting on Amenadiel's lap as he'd read it to her. Mazikeen had been there, too, but her new friend had held her and read to her. She loved the sound of his voice, and the way he would pause and answer any questions she had, whether it was a word she didn't know, or explaining an action she didn't yet have the life experience to understand.

Taking hold of her copy of Jane Eyre that sat next to her, she turned to the page noted in the essay question, and read over the passage again as she formulated her answer. The proctor had told her that the answers were subject to her understanding and interpretation of the material, but she wasn't sure if what she wrote was what they were looking for. Her answer made sense to her, but would it make sense to them, she wondered.

Finishing her answer, she read over what she'd written twice to make sure there were no errors, before setting her pencil down. She shook her head at the rhythmic thumping that began against her chair, and knew Shadow was wagging her tail. Mazikeen must be close, she reasoned, as she stood from her chair and carried her test to the woman. She waited patiently, only for the woman to smile and shake her head.

"That's it?" Trixie asked with wide eyes, as a smile began to curl her lips in a bow. "I'm all done?"

"You're all done," the woman answered with a smile. "No more tests until we get a clear picture on where you fit academically. And since today is your last day, and you've been far better mannered than most of the students I proctor for," she told Trixie, and pulled a clear plastic container from a brown paper bag. "I thought you might like a treat," she said, and offered Trixie the chocolate cupcake, the frosting on top piled high and decorated with pieces of intricately cut candies.

"Thank you!" Trixie said excitedly, and took the treat back to her table.

"I'll call your aunt to let her know you're ready to go," she told Trixie, laughing at the joy the cupcake brought the girl.

Trixie giggled around a mouthful of frosting as she shook her head. She'd told both her teacher, and the woman proctoring her exams that Mazikeen wasn't actually related to her, but with the resemblance she had to the demon, her school had seemed comfortable in the belief that Mazikeen was her aunt, and not simply her friend. She didn't mind it, not really. The more she had thought about it, the more she liked the idea of being related to Mazikeen. If Mazikeen were her aunt, that would make Amenadiel her uncle, and Lucifer . . .

Her smile fell a bit as she looked down at her cupcake, and tucked the remainder of it back into the plastic container before closing it. She wanted Lucifer to be her dad, but what if that wasn't what he wanted? Her own father didn't seem to want her, and the last time she had tried to call him, she had received a recording that her number had been blocked from him. She shouldn't have let her mind wander like that, she thought. If she hadn't been good enough for her own father, why had she been stupid enough to think she'd be good enough for Lucifer?

"Are you alright?" the woman asked, and Trixie looked up as she nodded hastily.

"I think I have an eyelash in my eye," she said, offering the same excuse she'd heard her mother use to hide her tears. "May I go to the bathroom, please?" she asked, and slid from her chair when the woman nodded.

She felt the warmth of Shadow beside her as she left the library and walked down the hall to the bathroom. She didn't want to cry, not here, but she felt incapable of stopping the tears that were stinging behind her eyes. Slipping into the bathroom with Shadow beside her, she checked to make sure that it was empty before reaching up above the handle on the door to turn the lock. Her chin trembled as she turned away from the door, and ran to the hellhound that was waiting for her, fully visible, in the middle of the tiled floor.

Shadow whined low when Trixie wrapped her arms around the hound's thick neck, and buried her face in her fur. All she had ever wanted was for her father to want to spend time with her, to be good enough for him to love. In the first few months when she and her mom lived apart from Dan, he had spent time with her, taking her to the movies, and places like Chuck-E-Cheese. At first, she had thought he'd wanted to spend the time with her, until she had come to realize that he took her to those places because he didn't have to pay attention to her.

She'd asked Dan to read to her, and he had done so, but only a few times. She had started applying herself more in school, trying to win his praise with good grades, but that had only lasted a few times until he'd lost interest. So, she had tried to do things that he seemed to like, such as basketball. He always watched the games on TV, so she had asked her mom to buy her a jersey for the player Dan always yelled at and cheered on, but he hadn't noticed it any of the times she'd worn it. She'd even asked him to explain the game to her, but he had simply told her to go do her homework.

That had all been before he had gone away. Once she had been taken by that mean cop, and her dad had gone away, he hadn't wanted anything more to do with her. The only thing she could think of that had made the change was her. That man, Malcolm, had said he was a police officer. She had always been told she could trust cops. Her parents were cops, but was that it? Was that why her dad no longer wanted her? Had it all been her fault?

Her tears came faster as she fell to her knees in front of Shadow and tightened her arms around her friend. That had to be what she had done wrong. It was the only thing she could think of. She had gone with Malcolm, and in doing so, her mom had been threatened, Lucifer had been shot, and her dad had gone away. If that was the case, then it all made sense. Why would anyone want to talk to her after what she had done? And why, after all that, would Lucifer want to be her dad?

Trixie pulled back from Shadow, smiling sadly when the hellhound licked her face, and turned toward the door when the lock clicked open. Mazikeen stepped inside, and frowned when she saw her. Trixie waited as the woman came toward her, and met her gaze when she crouched down in front of her. She went to her easily, wrapping her arms around Mazikeen's neck, and her legs around the woman's waist when she stood with her wrapped in her arms.

"Who do I need to punish?" Mazikeen asked her, clearly angered by her upset.

"Me," Trixie said softly, and Mazikeen scoffed.

"I find that hard to believe," she dismissed. "Tell me why," she demanded softly.

"I think I know what I did wrong now," Trixie told her softly, sniffling back her tears.

"And what would that be?" Mazikeen asked, and Trixie laid her head on the woman's shoulder.

"If I had called mommy instead of going with that man then mommy wouldn't have been scared, and Lucifer wouldn't have gotten hurt, and Daddy wouldn't have gone away," Trixie told her. "That's why Daddy doesn't want me. I was really bad," she said, and met Mazikeen's gaze when the woman pulled back enough to stare at her.

Trixie gasped softly at the barely-there flash of Mazikeen's true face, and frowned at the anger in the woman's eyes.

"This was _not_ your fault," Mazikeen told her, her tone leaving no room for argument. "You didn't do anything wrong. Dan's rejection is his own fault, _not yours_."

"Then why won't he talk to me, Maze?" Trixie begged her for answer. "Why did he block my number?"

Mazikeen sighed as she tightened her arms around Trixie. The girl cried softly, her breaths hitching, as she laid her head on Mazikeen's shoulder. She calmed a bit as the demon rubbed her back, and kissed her hair.

"Dan is a stupid and selfish bastard," Mazikeen told her. "He deserves punishment, not you," she promised the girl. "You've done nothing wrong," she told Trixie again. "I've got a surprise for you," she told Trixie, and the girl pulled back to look at her as she rubbed her fist against her eye. "But this has to go on," she said, and held up the black satin sleep mask that had become a familiar blindfold to the girl.

"Again?" Trixie asked with a pout.

"Today will be the last time you wear it," Mazikeen told her with a grin.

"Ok," Trixie said as she took the mask from her, and tucked it in her arm before curling against Mazikeen's shoulder. "Can I put it on in the car?" she asked, and Mazikeen chuckled.

"Sure," Mazikeen told her, and turned toward the door.

Trixie watched over the woman's shoulder as Shadow once again hid herself, dark ribbons of smoke rising from beneath her paws to swallow her into invisibility. Humming softly, Trixie closed her eyes and let Mazikeen carry her out into the hall. She felt safe in Mazikeen's arms, loved and protected. Looking up at the feel of a hand on her back, Trixie blinked up at Amenadiel, and lifted her arms when he reached for her. Her mom didn't often carry her places anymore, but she loved it when Lucifer, Mazikeen, and Amenadiel did. It felt to her that they were promising her she wouldn't be hurt.

"I have it on good authority that you're going to have a big night, Trixie," Amenadiel told her, the deeper tones of his voice vibrating through his chest.

"I am?" Trixie asked in confusion.

"You are," Mazikeen promised, as they stepped outside the school and toward the car. "Blindfold," she instructed, and chuckled at the girl's pout.

Trixie's world fell into darkness as she put the sleep mask on, and leaned her head on Amenadiel's shoulder. She closed her eyes as he carried her, content to have the excuse of the blindfold to allow her to dose a little bit. The tests she took were fascinating, and kind of fun, but they had the unmatched ability to exhaust her mentally. She felt herself being lowered and tucked into the back seat of Amenadiel's Buick, and she smiled when she felt him kiss her hair.

"So where are we going?" she asked, and was met with their amusement.

"You didn't really think you'd get an answer to that, did you?" Mazikeen told her as Amenadiel started the car.

 

 

 

**~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~**

Lucifer looked up at the large projection screen that had been hung on the wall over the lighted LUX sign. It was in the perfect place for Trixie to see it when she came to the bottom of the stairs. He looked back to the hall behind the bar, the area reserved for staff and him alone, and watched as Rocky stepped into the club. He nodded to Lucifer, and Lucifer nodded in return. Everything was set. All he had to wait for now was Trixie herself.

A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he watched Rocky climb the ladder beneath the chandelier to light the candles. The main lights of the club were turned off a few moments later, and he felt a certain amount of peace as the floating lights and candelabras were set aflame as well. The soft gold-white light of the candles filled the room, casting a myriad of gentle shadows on the walls and floors as the flames danced and swayed. The only thing he had left to do was change into his tux.

Stepping across the club to the stairs, he climbed them slowly to get to the elevator, and retrieved his phone from his pocket. Pressing down on the number two speed dial, he called Mazikeen, and brought the device to his ear as he waited for his call to be answered. He spoke to her quietly as he stepped into the elevator, and seconds later stepped out into his penthouse. They were still at least thirty minutes away, and while curious enough to ask for answers, Trixie was still in the dark as to what was actually happening.

Lucifer smiled as he poured himself a glass of scotch, and took a sip of the amber liquid, before moving down the hall to his bedroom. He hadn't told Chloe any of what he'd been planning over the past few weeks. If he were being honest with himself, the truth was that he hadn't actually thought about it, but perhaps he had always intended for this to be a surprise for her as well, he allowed. He had told her that morning that he wouldn't be able to join her at the office today, LUX had been closed for a private event that he had to prepare for. Initially reluctant, she had given into his gentle insistence that she come home after work and not worry about disturbing the event.

He shook his head as he set his glass down on the dresser, and moved to his walk-in closet. His tux had been freshly cleaned and pressed, the black suit made of Italian brushed wool shone as elegantly as the shoes waiting for him. Mazikeen had teased him a few days back, telling him he should wear a jacket with tails and a top hat, but he had dismissed her chiding. It didn't take him long to dress, and soon he stood before his full-length mirror as he tied the black silk bowtie around his neck.

Chloe was still at work, and would be for at least another hour, if not longer. The only reason he had felt safe enough to let her go in without him was because both his brother, Gabriel, and her FBI friend, Bobby, had been there with her. Bobby had returned from a trip to the New York and D.C. offices with close to twenty boxes of unsolved kidnapping files, and Gabriel had found just as many that he had gathered from the Center for Missing and Exploited Children. Chloe had been able to amass her own sizeable collection from missing persons and cold case files, not to mention the boxes of case files she had gathered that had been handled by the cops they already knew to be corrupt.

For all the expansion the case was undergoing, and the new connections being made on an almost hourly basis, the circle was beginning to close. They were getting closer and closer to closing in on the heads of the kidnapping ring. He remembered the way Chloe had described the connections she'd found, telling him that it was almost like a corporate merger. One company seemed to be handling the kidnapping, selling, and movement of the children, while another handled the money laundering, and still a third handled the murder and cover-ups. It was a well-oiled machine, and for as close as they were to getting the identities of those involved at the top level, it was also getting more dangerous.

Hunter had been by her side every moment that she was away from the penthouse, and Chloe's acceptance of the truth of what they all were had allowed her to see the watery image of Hunter when he kept himself hidden. Only Lucifer himself could see the hellhounds clearly when they hid themselves from the view of mortals, but Chloe could now see him just enough to remain comforted by his presence. He chuckled as he thought back to a few weeks ago, and the look on Chloe's face when Hunter had put himself between her and a car that had nearly hit her.

The vehicle hadn't been going terribly fast, only thirty miles per hour, but the impact would have left her injured, if not dead. Hunter had run at the car, putting himself into the line of fire, and Chloe had called after him in fear for the hound's life, only to stare in disbelief as the front of the car had been smashed in by the impact. For all the force of the hit, Hunter had been calm and unharmed. Chloe had spent the rest of the day, and night fussing over her hellhound and spoiling the fearsome creature with her love, attention, and treats.

Hunter was as lost as he was, Lucifer thought with a grin of amusement. The more love Chloe bestowed upon the hellhound, the more steadfast he became in his protection of her, and the stronger his loyalty to her was. A second attack had been attempted six days ago, and Hunter, without missing a beat, had taken the man out. A low sing-song whine drew his attention, and Lucifer smiled as he looked back over his shoulder. Giving himself one last look over, he smiled at the image he made, and stepped out of the closet.

"Feeling a bit lost without your charge?" he asked, greeting Shadow with a scratch behind her ear as he walked past her. "She'll be home soon enough, but I'll be stealing her away for a bit tonight," he told the hellhound, and watched her wag her tail.

Reaching for his phone when it rang, he answered Mazikeen's call. "She's here," Mazikeen told him, and he smiled.

"I'll be right there," he promised in return. "Keep her in suspense just a bit longer for me," he instructed, and smiled as he ended the call.

 

 

 

**~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~**

 

Trixie frowned as her blindfold was removed, and blinked against the brightness of the place she was in as she adjusted to the light. She leaned against Amenadiel's shoulder as he carried her further into the salon, and turned her head to look up at him in confusion. He smiled at her, but didn't tell her why they were there. What did a salon have to do with anything? She really didn't want to get her hair cut again, but shrugged as she sighed.

"What's that?" she asked, her curiosity growing as she caught sight of a large conical shape to the left of the station she'd been taken to.

"We've been sworn to secrecy," Amenadiel told her with a grin.

"Is it for me?" Trixie asked, tipping her head as her frown deepened.

"I can't tell you that," he replied, and Trixie's eyes widened.

"That means it _is_ for me," she said, and turned her attention to Mazikeen. "What is it?" she demanded with curious excitement.

"Nope," Mazikeen denied her, and Trixie pouted.

"Please?" Trixie asked, stretching out the word as a beautician stepped toward them.

"Nope," Mazikeen said again, and laughed when Trixie pouted.

"Alright," the woman greeted them all with a smile, and clapped her hands. "This must be Beatrice," she said as she met Trixie's gaze. "My name's Serafina," she introduced herself, and Trixie frowned.

"There's only one person that calls me by my name," Trixie said, and her eyes widened as she smiled brightly at the woman. "Lucifer planned this?" she asked with excitement.

"I'm afraid, I've been sworn to secrecy as well," she told Trixie, and laughed. "I've got my instructions, little miss. Lucifer warned me that you can be rather sneaky when you want to be, so I'm sorry, but I won't be answering any of your questions."

Trixie's mouth opened in indignant surprise, and she laughed as she pressed her lips together. Lucifer knew how sneaky she was because she had learned most of her tricks for getting answers out of people from him. What was he planning? And, most importantly, why was everyone keeping it a secret? She watched through the mirror in front of her as the woman brushed out her hair before gently combing her hair back from her head and temples, and twisting the small sections in order to clip them.

Serafina clipped Trixie's hair, pinning it in different places before she shook her head and released her hair. Trixie's hair was thick, and there was a lot of it, but it was also fine and delicate. The advantages of youth meant that her hair was soft as silk and not very easy to hold onto. At least not in its current state. Telling the girl to follow her, she led Trixie to the back room where the wash stands were. It didn't take her long to shampoo and condition the young girl's hair, and in less than twenty minutes they were back at the station in the front.

"Alright you," Serafina said to Trixie. "I'm going to dry your hair just enough to work with, but not enough to be completely dry. It'll still feel damp in some places."

"Ok," Trixie answered, and watched the woman work behind her.

She could feel the gentle tugs on her hair as it was combed, and the way it moved when the blow dryer fanned over it. The heat of the air was a nice contrast to the air-conditioned room. She watched Serafina move around her, gathering combs, clips, and bobby pins as she prepared a curling iron, and even grabbed a can of hairspray. At some point she must have closed her eyes, Trixie thought, because when she looked up, the woman was done styling her hair and had that same happy secretive smile that Amenadiel and Mazikeen did.

"And now, my dear," Serafina said as she turned Trixie's chair away from the mirror. "You get to see what it looks like," she said, and held up a small hand held mirror for the girl.

Trixie's eyes widened to see that her hair had been drawn back from the top of her head and her temples, the lengths of it folded into an intricate design at the back of her head. It looked like a bun, and a braid, and a Celtic knot all combined together. The rest of her hair hung freely down her back and had been curled and styled into gentle waves and corkscrews. She smiled when she saw it, and frowned when she was taken to another station.

"Now, what are we doing?" she asked Serafina curiously.

"Makeup," the woman told her simply, and motioned for her to take a seat.

"Makeup?" Trixie repeated with confusion.

"Yup, and you won't get anything more than that," she told her, and chuckled when Trixie pouted. "Close your eyes."

Pursing her lips as she tipped her head to the side, Trixie did as instructed and waited. It wasn't long before she felt something wet rubbed against her cheeks, and realized the woman was washing her face. Moments later, she felt a soft cloth against her skin as her face was dried. Foundation was applied to her skin, powder following soon after. She felt the brushes against her cheeks and eyes as blush and eye shadow were put on her next.

"This may feel a little strange," Serafina warned her, "but I need you to stay as still as possible, and not flinch, or move. Ok?"

"Ok," Trixie agreed.

She felt something cold and wet applied to her eyelids, just above her lashes, and tried to sort out what it was. It reminded her of the makeup her mom had used on her last Halloween to make cat whiskers, and she remembered that it had been called liquid eyeliner. She wondered if that was what Serafina was using on her now. Opening her eyes when instructed, Trixie blinked, and looked at the small curled brush in the woman's hand.

"Look up," Serafina instructed her, and Trixie followed her command.

"What is it?" Trixie asked as the woman brought the brush to her eyes, and combed through her lashes.

"Mascara," she answered. "Ok," Serafina said a moment later. "All done," she said, and turned Trixie toward the mirror behind her.

Trixie gasped as she stared at herself. Her face had been painted in delicate golds and red-browns. She knew she was wearing makeup, but it wasn't overly obvious that it was there. Her eyes had been dusted in smoky gold, and lined with dark black. The mascara she wore made her eyes that much more prominent, and she smiled at the dark wine lipstick that adorned her mouth. She looked like a movie star, she thought.

"I've been told to give this back to you," she said as she handed the sleep mask to Trixie.

"Maze, really?" Trixie asked as she spun around in the chair.

"Yes, really," Mazikeen told her with a grin. "Put it on."

Trixie sighed as she put on the mask, her world falling into darkness as she was led carefully from the chair. She heard the sound of wheels behind her, and remembered seeing small rollers under the large conical thing that had been in the room before. She wanted to know what was going on, but the more questions she asked, the less anyone told her anything. Pouting as she was helped out of her clothes, she felt the softness of a slip, and frowned as she wondered if she would be wearing a dress.

"Ok," Mazikeen said, and Trixie heard the shifting of fabric. "Amenadiel's going to lift you up," she said, and Trixie squeaked when she was lifted from the floor.

Trixie was set back down a few seconds later, and felt a dress pulled up around her legs. Her hands were slipped through a hole on either side, but she felt no sleeves. She felt Mazikeen zip up the dress at her back, before she moved around her, adjusting the skirt and petticoats underneath. Telling her to take hold of her shoulders, Mazikeen helped her into a pair of small heels, and secured a strap over the top of her feet, as she buckled each shoe into place.

"You look beautiful," Amenadiel told her as Mazikeen covered her with a dark cloak.

"Thank you," Trixie said, and felt Mazikeen take her hand as she was led from the room.

"Tell him I want pictures," Serafina called after them as they were leaving, and she heard Amenadiel and Mazikeen laugh.

"I'm sure that can be arranged," Amenadiel assured the beautician as Trixie followed Mazikeen out of the salon. "Here we go," he said to Trixie as he lifted her into the backseat of the car.

They were on their way again, and Trixie sighed as she wondered what all of this was for. Why have her makeup and hair done? Why change her clothes? Were they going out somewhere? She gasped and squealed as she kicked her feet, believing to have found the answer, and smiled brightly when the adults in front laughed at her antics.

"Is Lucifer gonna ask mommy to marry him?" she asked, and heard the sound of someone choking. "Is everything ok?"

"Everything's fine," Mazikeen told her as she laughed. "You just have a knack for surprising Amenadiel when he's just taken a drink," she told her with humor. "I don't think tonight is about Lucifer proposing to your mother," she said.

"Are you sure?" Trixie asked. "Why else would he do all this?"

"Why indeed," Amenadiel said after recovering, and laughed softly. "There couldn't be anyone else he'd do this for," he told her.

"I know!" Trixie agreed with him. "So, if not for mom, then why?" she asked, and pouted when they both chuckled. "Just a hint?" she requested of them.

"Sorry, little human," Mazikeen told her. "No answers. It's all a surprise."

"That's mean," Trixie pouted, and Mazikeen laughed in response.

"And fun," she teased her.

"We're here," Amenadiel said as the car came to a stop.

Trixie heard the front doors open as Mazikeen and Amenadiel stepped out, and the jingle of keys being tossed to someone. Her car door opened a few seconds later, and she felt hands grip her waist as she was lifted from the car. She was set on her feet a few seconds later, and blinked when Mazikeen removed her blindfold. She frowned as she looked up at the club in front of them, and shook her head in confusion.

"We're back home?" Trixie asked as she stared at the club's sign.

"Mademoiselle," Rocky greeted her as she walked toward the doors of the club.

"Hi Rocky!" Trixie greeted him, and the man smiled.

"Before you step inside," he said to her, and led her to the alcove beneath the entryway. "Lucifer wanted you to see what you look like," he told her, and uncovered a tall freestanding mirror.

Trixie tipped her head curiously as she looked in the mirror, and saw herself covered in the same black velvet cloak that she had seen in the salon. Her makeup and hair were still perfect. She frowned as she looked at her reflection and noticed the gold Mary Jane style heels she wore. The color and design looked achingly familiar, but she couldn't place it. She watched as Rocky stepped up behind her and reached around to undo the tie of the cloak.

The girl's eyes widened as the heavy cloth fell away to reveal a perfect replica of Belle's gold dress from Beauty and the Beast. She turned to Mazikeen, her expression full of surprise, as she felt her heart burn. This new emotion was almost sad, but not sad, she thought, and wondered why it was she wanted to cry even though she wasn't upset. Mazikeen smiled at her as she knelt down, and helped her into a pair of gold satin elbow length gloves. Silicone threads lined the inside of the cuffs at the top of the gloves, acting as gentle grips to keep the gloves in place.

"Go on," Mazikeen said to her when Rocky opened the door, and held out an arm to invite her inside.

Trixie felt her eyes sting with tears as she stepped inside the club, her breath coming faster as she looked around at the way the club had been decorated. It looked like a ballroom, a scene out of a fairytale, she thought. She stopped when she came to the top of the stairs and looked up at the chandelier that reminded her of Beauty and the Beast. Candles were spread across the room, their flames flickering and dancing delicately. Posters with scenes from her favorite movies hung on the walls, and Trixie blinked as a tear escaped her eye to roll down her cheek.

"Beatrice." She turned her attention to Lucifer, her eyes widening to find him standing at the bottom of the stairs in a tux, waiting for her. "I know I may not be your father, but would you honor me with a dance?" he asked of her.

Trixie's eyes widened further, as she nodded silently, unable to speak. A sob broke from her as she ran down the stairs to him, and Lucifer caught her easily as he lifted her up for a hug. He rubbed her back as he held her, soothing her as she cried in his arms.

"Oh darling," Lucifer said to her as he held her. "This wasn't meant to make you cry," he told her, and she tightened her arms around him.

"Good tears," she said, sniffling, as she finally understood what her mother meant by the term. "Thank you, Lucifer," she told him, and kissed his cheek.

"You are most welcome, Beatrice," he replied as he set her on her feet. 

  **  
**

**~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~**

 

Lucifer gave the club one last look over as he moved to the bottom of the stairs, and turned. He faced the stairs as he retrieved his phone from his pocket and texted Rocky to let the man know he was ready for Trixie. He heard the club door open, and stood silent as he waited. His first glimpse of Trixie was fleeting as she rounded the edge of the balcony, and then he watched her move to stand at the top landing of the stairs as she looked around the club.

She was beautiful, he thought, as he studied the girl. Her soul shined in a way he hadn't seen before, the brightness of it burning low like a cautious fire. The dress was perfect on her, Mai Khan having done an amazing job of recreating the gown from the movie. The bodice fit her snugly, the wide straps held in place on her shoulders. The skirt of the gown created a delicately ruffled bell, held out by the layers of satin and muslin petticoats underneath.

"Beatrice," he called up to her, and watched a single tear slip down her cheek as she turned her eyes to his. "I know I may not be your father," he told her, and watched her mouth drop open. "But would you honor me with this dance?"

He watched her stand still and silent, before her face fell into an expression he couldn't quite define. She nodded seconds before she ran to him, and he frowned in alarm when he heard her crying. He soothed her as he caught her easily and lifted her up to hold her against his shoulder. She had cried so much already because of the pain Dan put her thought. The last thing he had wanted was to bring more tears to her eyes.

"Oh darling," Lucifer soothed her as he held her. "This wasn't meant to make you cry," he said, his tone a soft apology.

He felt her tremble as she sniffled.  "Good tears," she told him, and he smiled when she hugged her arms around his neck. "Thank you, Lucifer," Trixie said, and he felt the dampness of her tears when she kissed his cheek.

"You are most welcome, Beatrice," he told her sincerely as he set her on her feet. "May I have this dance?" he asked her with a soft grin, and watched her nod.

He led her out to the dance floor, his eyes on her as she watched the projection screen light up. Her eyes widened as the still image of Rapunzel and Flynn Ryder in the boat appeared, the floating lanterns in the air above them. The image began to move as the scene played, the song filling the room, as he led her in a slow circle. It was a little awkward at first to dance with her, but he found his rhythm easily enough, and was soon gliding across the floor with her as he led her in her first slow waltz.

"You know," Mazikeen said as she sat at one of the tables on the balcony with Amenadiel and looked out at the dance floor. "I've seen a lot of sides to Lucifer," she mused as she looked to meet Amenadiel's gaze. "But this?"

Amenadiel chuckled as he smiled and watched Lucifer dance with Trixie. "That's because this isn't Lucifer. This," he said, and nodded with wide eyes toward the pair on the dance floor. "This is Samael, before The Fall, before the betrayal."

"What's Samael?" Chloe said from behind them, and Mazikeen turned back to look at the woman. "Lucifer said the club was closed for . . ."

Chloe gasped before she fell silent, tears filling her eyes as she lifted her hand to cover her mouth. She stared in disbelief as she looked around at the club, only to still as her gaze came to rest on Lucifer as he danced with her daughter. It was the first time she was seeing the club as it was now, the decorations and new additions turning it into some kind of fairytale. She set her bag down on the chair near the table where Amenadiel and Mazikeen sat, and moved to the stairs, Gabriel following after her. He had come with her from the station, their plan to reveal to Lucifer what had been found thwarted by what was taking place.

"He didn't tell you, did he?" Gabriel asked Chloe as she sat down on the third step from the bottom.

"No," she said breathlessly as she shook her head. "This is beautiful," she whispered in awe.

"Amenadiel was right," Gabriel told her as he moved to sit next to her. "That isn't _Lucifer Morningstar_ down there with your daughter. That's _Samael_ ," he said, and met Chloe's gaze when she turned to him with confusion.

"But they're the same person," she said with confusion.

"Lucifer Morningstar is who he learned to become when Dad threw him out," Gabriel told her. "That man is Samael. The Lightbringer," he said. "He was . . . softer, kinder, loved everything beautiful, and joyful. He created the rainforests, and the waterfalls," he revealed to her. "He was innocent and full of wonder," he said, his voice trailing off.

Chloe laughed through her tears as the song ended, the scene on the projection screen fading out only to be replaced with the ballroom scene from Beauty and the Beast. Her daughter looked like Belle, she thought, as she watched Lucifer dance with Trixie. He didn't look up from her daughter at all, it was as if no one else existed to him in that moment. The smile never left her daughter's face, and she watched as the girl stared up at Lucifer adoringly. Whoever had done her daughter's makeup had been thinking ahead, she thought, as she saw the tears on her daughter's face. Waterproof mascara.

"Her soul is shining brighter than anything I've seen," Gabriel said, and she turned her gaze on him as she wiped away tears of love and happiness.

"What?" Chloe asked him, not understanding what he meant.

"Your daughter," Gabriel clarified with a grin, and nodded toward the girl. "Angels and demons, we can see souls," he told her. "It’s not as easy with adults because you’ve learned to control your emotions, but children feel emotion so deeply that it gives them this kind of raw power. It's how he always knows when she's upset. The light of her soul will dim and fade when she’s sad, burn when she's angry, flicker when she's scared, but right now," he said, and met Chloe's gaze before he turned back to watch the dancing pair. "Her soul is shining with the light of a thousand stars. It's brighter than anything I've seen in a long time. She is so happy right now, it's blinding."

Tears slipped down Chloe's cheeks as she laughed softly. "Dan never had time for her. He would read to her, if asked, but that was about it. And Lucifer does all this without even telling me," she said around a happy sob. "He always scoffs when I tell him that he makes an amazing father."

"He would scoff at that," Gabriel chuckled. "If you remember nothing else about my brother, remember this: No one can make Lucifer, or Samael for that matter, do anything that he doesn't want to. He did all of this because he wanted to, and not because anyone asked him to."

"All of her favorite songs," Chloe said with a heavy sigh as she wiped her still falling tears away, and listened to the angelic tones of the man singing 'You Are Loved'. "That's not Josh Groban," she thought aloud as she tipped her head. "Who's singing?"

"Andy Purdy of Stitch These Wounds," Mazikeen told her from the balcony above. "You should have seen his face when I told him what Lucifer had planned, and what I was asking for. Each person involved was beyond happy to help set this up."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Chloe asked as she looked up at the woman.

"I thought he had," she said with a shrug. "Turns out he was surprising you, too."

 

 

**~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~**

 

 

Lucifer smiled down adoringly on Trixie as he danced with her. He knew she was getting tired, and smiled at the way she rested her feet on top of his. For the past three songs, she had been standing on top of his feet as he moved them in slow gentle circles. Reaching down to her as the song they were dancing to ended, he lifted her up to hold her against his shoulder. He felt her arms wrap around him, one draped over his shoulder, and her other arm resting against his chest as she tucked her hand inside the folds of his jacket.

"Come dance with us, darling," Lucifer called to Chloe as he turned toward the stairs.

He watched her stand from her seat on the stairs next to Gabriel, tears in her eyes, and held his arm out to her in invitation. She stepped toward him slowly, sniffling back her tears, the smile curling her lips never falling away. He kissed her lips when she joined him, tasting the salt of her tears, and held her close, his arm wrapped around her waist. He bowed his head, kissing Trixie's hair as she laid her head on his shoulder. He smiled when Chloe reached out to smooth her hand over her daughter's hair, her dark locks still held in the intricate design at the back of her head with the rest of her hair falling down in delicate curls.

"I can't believe you did all this," Chloe said softly as she met his gaze, and kissed his cheek. "This is beautiful," she told him, as she danced slowly with him.

Lucifer lifted his arm from around her waist, and brought his hand to her face to tuck her hair behind her ear. He smiled at the song playing, and watched Chloe tip her head up as she laughed through her tears. He kissed her temple as he listened to her sing along to a few of the verses of _Butterfly Kisses_ , and returned his arm to around her waist as he danced with her in slow swaying circles.

"My dad sang this to me on my sweet sixteen," she told him, and met his gaze with a laugh. "It was the last time we danced together," she said, and shook her head as she looked down. "It's funny . . . No one quite measured up to my dad, not even Dan, but you . . ." Her voice trailed off as she met Lucifer's gaze. "You exceed the expectation he set. I never thought anyone would even come close." The tears gathered in her eyes spilled on her cheeks, and she smiled as he wiped them away. "Thank you."

Lucifer offered her a soft grin as he kissed her brow. "She deserves to feel loved. You both do," he told her, glancing down at the little girl who was mostly asleep on his shoulder.

"I think you've ruined her for anyone else," she told him, a teasing grin twisting her lips as he met her gaze with a touch of confusion. "Any boy, or man looking to date her when she gets older will have to be able to measure up to you," she said, and cast her eyes around the fairytale ballroom the club had been turned into. "I don't think anyone ever will," she mused, as she touched her daughter's hair.

" _Anyone_ looking to court Beatrice will have to get past _me_ first," he told her, his eyes flashing crimson, and watched her smile. "Close your eyes, darling," he bid of Trixie when she snuggled closer to him, and kissed her hair. He began to sing along with the song playing, the lyrics becoming his vows to them. " _I'll be your strength, I'll be your hope. Keeping your faith when it's gone_ . . ."

The tears gathered in Chloe's eyes spilled over as Lucifer sang. She lifted her hands to frame his face gently as he sang, the sincerity in his gaze breaking her even as she burned with the love she felt for him. She kissed his cheeks, his eyes, his lips, breaking up the words he sang, as she cried. He smiled against her mouth, kissing her in return as she poured all the love she felt for him into her kiss, the desire she felt burning through them both. They both chuckled softly when Trixie moved just enough to plant a drowsy kiss on his cheek, before returning her head to his shoulder as her eyes closed.

The light of their souls was pure fire, burning him as it soothed him. His voice was soft and sincere as he continued to sing, pausing every now and then as he met and returned Chloe's kisses. He could feel her soul twining around him, pulling him closer, her love and happiness making her soul shine like starlight. She whimpered softly as she pressed closer to him, careful not to jostle the child sleeping against his shoulder. He felt the shift, the way her love turned and grew, burning hotter as it evolved into a desire so strong he could feel it thrumming in the air around them.

"I should put her to bed," he whispered against Chloe's lips, and felt her smile as she kissed him in reply.

Chloe nodded as she held his gaze, before she laughed through her tears, and looked up at the candlelit chandelier above them. He smiled at the sound of her humming along to the opening chords of the new song, and pulled back to dance with her as he listened to her alto voice as she sang along.

" _We were strangers, starting out on a journey. Never dreaming what we'd have to go through_ ," she sang softly, her voice fading away. "It's funny," she told him as the song continued to play. "When we first met, I saw you as an annoyance - a helpful, and playful annoyance, but now . . ." Her voice trailed off as she bit her lip, and he tipped his head in silent question as he waited for her to continue. "I can't imagine being without you."

His eyes studied hers, the breath he took in trembling as it rolled in the back of his throat. He captured her lips once more, kissing her gently, slowly, as he poured his love for her into the embrace. She combed her fingers through his hair as she held his cheek in her palm, pulling him closer as he deepened their kiss, and he listened to her whimper softly with need. Their movements slowed as their dancing came to a stop, and he smiled against her mouth as he broke their kiss.

"Come along, darling," he bid her softly, and led Chloe toward the stairs, his arm around her waist.

"I don't think I've seen her so happy," Chloe said with wonder as she stepped into the elevator, and looked at her sleeping daughter in his arms. "What . . . What made you do all this?" she asked curiously, and he gave her a pouting shrug.

"Shadow found a ball of paper in her backpack," he told her, and glanced down at the child in his arms.   "Destroyed the bloody thing to get it, but . . .” He sighed as he met Chloe’s gaze. “Beatrice had torn up a flyer she'd been given at school for a father-daughter dance they were hosting. The event was already over when I found it, but I thought perhaps she might still like to dance anyway."

She surprised him with a kiss, her breath hitching around a sob as she kissed him. "You are the most wonderful amazing person I have ever known," she said, kissing him in between words.

"All of this for a dance?" he teased her, his voice soft and amused even as his brows furrowed in question.

“It’s so much more than a dance,” Chloe whispered, kissing him again as the elevator doors opened. “It’s everything.”

Lucifer smiled almost shyly as he lifted his hand to her cheek, his thumb brushing over her skin as he held her gaze. He tipped his head down to capture her lips, pulling her closer as he wrapped his arm around her waist. She whimpered against him as she pressed closer, and he chuckled softly when she fisted her hands in his hair. Breaking the kiss, he rested his brow against hers, and smiled. He felt her breath against his skin, the soft puffs of warm air scented softly with coffee and chocolate.

“Are you laughing at me?” Chloe asked him as she pulled back, and his smiled widened.

“Perhaps a little,” he teased, and drew in a deep breath. “Starlight Java,” he said, and Chloe chuckled softly as she reached out to push the door open button.

“They’re the only place in L.A. that stays open till midnight,” she said with a grin, and put her hand against the door to hold it open as he stepped out into the penthouse.

“They’re also the only place on this coast that serves Death Wish coffee, and hand delivers drinks to a certain detective,” he teased her as he carried Trixie toward the piano, and sat down. “She’s waking up,” he told Chloe, and smiled at her when she stepped closer.

Lucifer turned his attention down to the child in his arms. He felt her ribs expand as she took in a deep breath, and listened to the breathy moan she released as she leaned back in his arms. Her eyes were barely open, and he chuckled when she rocked back and forth in a sleep-drunk manner. She smiled up at him drowsily, and leaned back against his shoulder as she mumbled unintelligibly. He rubbed her back when she curled against him, and looked up to meet Chloe’s gaze.

“I should put her bed,” Chloe said, and Lucifer shook his head as he stood from the piano bench.

“Let me, darling,” he told her. “It’s almost midnight,” he said with a teasing grin as he stepped past her. “The fairytales don’t end until the clock strikes twelve.”

“Lucifer,” she called to him when he turned away, and he stopped as he turned to face her. “What you did here tonight,” she said as she stepped up to him, and lifted her hand to cup his cheek in her palm. “The planning, the preparations,” she said as she glanced at her sleeping daughter, “everything that you did . . .”

Lucifer’s brows quirked in a half frown when she fell silent, and he studied her curiously. His lips parted in alarm when tears filled her eyes, and he watched as she shook her head before rising on her toes to kiss him. She sniffled as she pulled back, and smoothed the pad of her thumb over the curve of his cheek.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice choked with emotion. “You didn’t even know how she would respond, and you . . .”

“She was worth the risk,” he told her, and watched as the tears in her eyes spilled onto her cheeks. “So are you,” he promised, and kissed her brow. “Let me put her down,” he said, nodding to the sleeping child in his arms.

He kissed her once more before he turned away from her. He could feel the heat of her stare as he carried Trixie through the penthouse and to the hallway that led back to their private bedrooms. Looking up when he felt the presence of the two hounds in front of him, he chuckled at their expectant expressions.

“Yes, your charge has returned,” he told them, and stepped past the beasts.

“Lucifer,” Trixie mumbled to him softly as he carried her into her bedroom.

“It’s alright, darling,” he whispered as he stepped over to her bed.

“Thank you for dancing with me,” she said without opening her eyes, her words slurred.

“You’re welcome, Beatrice,” he returned as he pulled back her blankets before lowering her to her bed. “Sleep for me, darling,” he bid of her as he removed her shoes.

“’ucifer,” she called to him sleepily as he covered her with the blankets.

“Yes, darling?” he said as he sat on the bed next to her.

“You’re a good daddy,” she whispered, her words barely loud enough to be heard, and he smiled bittersweetly.

“I’m not a father, darling,” he told her as he carefully removed the pins from her hair. “I’m just a man.”

“I choose you,” she mumbled, and sighed as she drifted off to sleep.

“Sleep for me,” he whispered as he leaned over to kiss her brow. “Shadow,” he called out softly to the hellhound.

He watched as the hellhound opened her jaws in a wide yawn, her lips pulling back to reveal a deadly set of teeth, before she snapped her mouth shut. Groaning softly, Shadow moved to the side of the bed opposite Lucifer and stepped up slowly to lie down next to Trixie. Whining low to her charge, Shadow nuzzled the girl gently, and Lucifer watched with a soft smile as Trixie turned in her sleep to tuck herself against the beast’s side. Dropping the hair pins onto the night table beside him, Lucifer stood from the bed and watched as Hunter took his place on the bed. Reaching out to pet Hunter’s fur, he nodded his approval when the hellhound turned his head to meet his gaze.

“Guard her well,” he bid of the beasts, and moved to the door of the bedroom.

“G’ni’ ‘ucifer,” he heard Trixie mumble, and chuckled softly as he turned off the bedroom light.

“Goodnight darling,” he said, and pulled the door almost closed as he left her to sleep.

 

 

 

**~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~**

Chloe stood leaning against the open doorway of the hall as she watched Lucifer carry Trixie to bed, a tremulous smile curling her lips as she listened to him speak to her drowsy daughter. Bowing her head as she watched him turn the corner into Trixie’s room, Chloe felt tears prick at her eyes, and smiled as she took in an unsteady breath. Laughing softly as she nodded to herself, she felt honored by all he had done. She bit her lip as she looked up, and smiled as she moved away from the doorway she’d been leaning against.

Stepping in through the door of the bedroom she shared with him, she looked up at the open French doors, the night calling to her as the gossamer curtains danced on the breeze. The cool air greeted her as she stepped out onto the balcony, and she lifted her hands to rest on the clear glass railing that separated her from the devastatingly fatal drop below. Closing her eyes as she let the wind wash over her, Chloe breathed in deeply and sighed as she relaxed. She and her daughter had been living with Lucifer ever since her attack, and now, almost two months later, she couldn't imagine ever being without him again.

“He is a good man,” she said as she looked out at the star filled sky. “He is a better father to her than her own father ever was. He may not mean anything to you,” she said as she looked toward the heavens. “But he means everything to me and to that little girl he’s with right now.”

Every night, she watched him tuck Trixie into bed. Not because she asked him to, or because her daughter asked him to, but because he had wanted to. When she, or her daughter woke with nightmares, he was there to soothe them both. Her lips curled in over her teeth as she kept her eyes closed, allowing her mind the freedom it desired. The first night of her attack when they had played twenty questions to keep her awake, and he had bared his deepest desire to her, she knew she had been lost.

The barriers she had tried to keep in place to maintain an emotional distance between herself and Lucifer had come crashing down They had shared the same bed so many times before, but somehow that night had been different, the feel of his arms more than words could describe. He hadn't done anything more than simply hold her, but she had felt the change. She smiled as she bit her lip, and found she finally understood what that change had been. The fear she had held of letting him in, of giving into her desires, had vanished as though it had never been there to begin with.

“I’m glad you cast him out,” she said as she stared at the stars. “Because in doing so, you gave him to me. Maybe you don’t love him now, maybe you never did, but I love him, and so does my daughter. I will fight for him, and so will she. He deserves so much better than you’ve ever given him, and maybe that’s your punishment for all that you’ve done. Because now you finally see that you’ve done nothing to deserve his love, and even though I know he’ll never say it out loud, I know he still loves you. He is a good man,” she said with a sniffle. “And he is mine to love. Should you ever try to take him away from us, I will find a way to come after you, and I will make you feel every moment of pain and rejection that he has ever felt because of you. I choose Lucifer, and so does my daughter.”

She closed her eyes as she felt a rush of warmth fill her, spiraling through her being, and took in a trembling breath as she sighed. She sniffled as a tear slipped down her cheek, the love and happiness she felt filling her to overflowing. Her eyes fell closed as the memories of the night played through her mind, the images of Lucifer dancing with her daughter making her heart burn with the love she felt. When she had stepped into LUX earlier that evening, and seen what he had done for her daughter, any doubts, or hesitations she may have once held fell away without pause. He hadn't mentioned any of what he had planned to her, and she found herself more deeply in love with him than ever before. She would give anything for him, for all he'd done just here tonight, for the way he'd made her daughter feel. If she lost him tomorrow, the memory of this night would carry her through for the rest of her life.

“Beatrice is asleep,” Lucifer said, and Chloe gasped softly as he stepped up behind her.

She could hear the rustle of clothing as he tugged free of his bowtie, and smiled as her eyes opened. Her breath fanned over her parted lips as she felt his warmth grow closer to her, and smiled at the energy that infused her when his scent wrapped around her.

“It is quite the view,” he mused as he closed the distance between them, and she felt the heat of his body against her back.

He was close enough that his scent and heat surrounded her. She gasped silently as she tried to get her mind to work, sparks of energy ricocheting across her nerves only to coalesce in a never-ending wave that spiraled up and down her spine, tightening around her chest as her breath came in quiet shallow pants. Heat pooled low in her belly as she became intoxicated by him, needing him closer, yet afraid she would burst into flame if he touched her. Her eyes darkened as she felt her temperature rise, and shivered at the contrast between the heat of her arousal and the cooler night air around them.

His long arms enclosed her on either side, the sight of his hands on the railing beside hers making her burn hotter as she yearned for his touch. She moved her hand over top his, tracing his long elegant fingers, and heard the appreciative hum that sounded from the man behind her. She gasped as her head fell back against his shoulder when he moved his hand from beneath hers to rest against her belly, his fingers splayed wide as he held her close. She arched against him, pressing into his hand when the heat of his mouth found the spot where her neck met her shoulder. Chloe whimpered and gasped as her head rolled to the side, baring her throat to him. The feel of the vibrations of his growl against her back enticing her further as he kissed and nipped at her delicate flesh.

“Lucifer,” she cried his name in a half-whisper half-whimper, and pressed her hand over his. “Please,” she begged of him, unsure what exactly she was asking for, but trusting he would know the answer.

He nipped at her skin as he pulled her closer against him, and her eyes fell closed as she felt his hands move to the buttons of her shirt. She trembled as he started at the bottom, undoing the buttons one by one until the only one left closed was over her bra. She arched against his hand when he slid his fingers against the bared skin of her abdomen, and whimpered at the contrast between the heat of his hand and the cool air blowing around them. She jerked slightly, startling as the last button came undone with a soft pop, and turned her head to meet his kiss.

The need she had for him was stronger than anything she’d ever felt before, and she groaned at the almost painful contraction in her womb. Every cell in her body desired him, wanted him closer, until she felt drunk under the overwhelming arousal he inspired in her. She shivered against him as the wind filled the fabric he’d undone, her shirt billowing around her as if even her clothing was inviting his touch upon her skin. Chloe whimpered as she broke the kiss, gasping for air as he trailed nibbling kisses across her jaw, and down her throat to the curve of her neck.

“So beautiful,” he praised her with awe as he trailed his fingertips slowly over her skin until he reached the front closing clasp of her bra.

“Lucifer,” she whimpered his name as he teased her. “Need you,” she begged brokenly, and felt his lips curl in a smile against her skin.

“Your wish is my command,” he purred against her neck.

Chloe gasped as he unclasped her bra, whimpering with need as he opened it. The cool air brushed across her skin, caressing her, her nipples pebbling tightly as he slid both her shirt and bra off her shoulders and down her arms. He bared her to the night around them and groaned in delight when she fell back against him, her hands reaching back to grip his hips as she searched for some semblance of stability. His left hand slipped up to cup her breast, his long fingers tracing the pillowing mound before rolling and plucking her nipple, as his right hand slid back down her stomach and into the front of her pants.

She gasped sharply, nearly sobbing with need as his hand pressed gently against her skin, sliding into her panties, and down further to cup her mound. She cried his name as her breaths came faster, her head rolling back against his shoulder as he nipped at her ear. She bucked against his hand, spreading her legs slightly to accommodate him, when his fingers slipped down through her dampened curls to stroke at the hardened nub nestled in between her folds that begged for his attention. Her mouth fell open in a soundless cry when his hand curled down further, his middle finger hooking underneath to slip inside her wet channel.

"Lucifer," she sobbed as she rocked against his hand.

"We've danced around each other so long now," he whispered in her ear, the warmth of his breath contrasting with the dampness of the skin he'd marked with his teeth and tongue. "All the witty repertoire, the heated glances, the things we didn't say," he spoke to her softly as he caressed her, bringing her closer to the edge. "That kiss in San Francisco, on accident perhaps, but so _bloody perfect_. The moments we've shared since, the teasing touches and promises of so much more to come. It's here now," he told her, and she whimpered as she rocked her hips against his hand, meeting his rhythm. "Come for me, Chloe. That's it, love," he purred when she whimpered in need, panting, as she spread her legs wider to accommodate the width of his hand, allowing him unbridled access to her as she pressed against his questing fingers. "Come for me," he bid of her again as she rocked against his hand.

A harsh sob sounded from her, his name on her lips, as he rejoiced in the feel of her muscles spasming around his fingers. He growled low as he coaxed her through her orgasm, fanning the fire of her passion, and slipped his hands from around her. Her eyes met his when he lifted her into his arms, and she delighted in the red light at the center of his dark gaze. She cupped his face in her hands as she brought her lips to his, and kissed him, pouring everything she felt into the embrace as he carried her to his bed.

“I love you,” she whispered against his lips as she kissed him. “Lucifer Morningstar, Samael,” she called his names as she kissed him. “I love every part of you.”

“Bloody Hell, woman,” he cursed her as he lowered her to his bed.

_Their bed_ , her mind corrected her, and she felt her passion rise further. He cupped the back of her head as he lowered her to the pillows, and Chloe watched him as he stood above her. The sight of him in a tux had always been devastating, but to see him dressed so, and know what they were about to do, stole her breath away as she burned for him. She thought she smiled when he moved down to relieve her of her boots. He slid his hands up her legs until he reached the top of her pants, and she watched him through the fringe of her lashes as he opened the button at the top and felt him pull down her zipper.

She arched her back, her bottom rising up off the bed as he slipped her pants over her hips. Her head fell back against the pillow as she whimpered in need when she felt him slip her pants off her completely. He lifted her foot in his hand, and she groaned at the feel of his teeth nipping at her calf as he removed her sock. He kissed and nipped his way from her calf to the inside of her knee, and she cried out when he dragged his tongue up the inside of her thigh.

Lucifer left a trail of fire burning on her skin as he suckled and nipped his way up her thigh, only to stop mere inches from where she desired his touch the most. She whimpered at the maddening havoc he was wreaking on her, every touch and kiss expertly done, as he played her nerves like a finely tuned instrument. Her hands fisted in the silk sheets beneath her as she bucked up against the heat of his mouth. She could feel him so close to her center, so very close to where she needed him, but sobbed when he chuckled low as he teased her without touching her.

"You are temptation personified," he praised her as he nipped at the sensitive skin of her opposite thigh before soothing her with his tongue. "You smell _so bloody delicious_ ," he growled low, and she writhed under the heat of his stare, her hips undulating at the flash of crimson in his gaze. "Perfection," he praised her as he kissed his way down to her ankle and removed her sock. "So delicate," he purred as he smoothed his fingertips over her skin in a feather-light caress.

“No one else?” she asked as she stared into crimson gaze.

“No one else has ever delighted in seeing me like this except you,” he told her, and chuckled. “Most people scream in fear, but not you.”

“Why would I be afraid of you?” she asked, and watched as his smile widened.

“Why indeed,” he teased her, trailing his fingers over her breasts, and she arched her back as she closed her eyes.

His hands slid up over her hips, only for his fingers to hook in the waistband of her panties, and slide back down again as he took the slip of onyx satin with him. Her eyes opened in slivers, just enough to see him, and she watched as he dropped her panties to the floor by the bed. His hands returned to her legs, smoothing and caressing over her shins, only to slide both hands back around her legs to cup her caves in his palms. She whimpered with need as he lifted and spread her legs, kneeling on the bed between them.

It was almost unfair that he was still fully clothed, the tux he wore devastating to her senses, but the smile that he bestowed up on her left her burning with desire and aching for his touch. She jerked and cried out when he blew a slow breath on her hot center, and watched as he tipped his head with an awed smile. She watched as the crimson light behind his eyes faded, only to intensify once more, and her mouth opened in a soundless cry as she reached for him.

"I'm curious," he said, his voice full of wonder, and leaned into her hand on his cheek. "Did Daniel ever . . . Not once?" he asked in disbelief when she shook her head.

"He said he didn't like it," she told him as she rolled back down to the pillows, and dropped her hand from his face, blushing at the weight of his hungry stare.

"He's a fool," he whispered in delighted fascination. "It's the best part."

He spread her legs further as he moved closer, and she whimpered as he scrapped his teeth against the curve of her knee. She rubbed the arch of her foot against his thigh as she tightened her legs around him, beckoning him closer as she lifted her hands to touch him when he was close enough to reach.

"I do recall telling you," he purred, and laid a nibbling kiss to her inner thigh. "That I could spend hours," he spoke against her skin as he trailed his mouth closer to her center. "Worshipping you," he said, and she cried out as she bucked against his mouth.

Her head fell back against the pillow as she cried his name, her hands fisting in his hair as she held him to her. Her hips arched up off the bed, his fingertips gripping her hips as he kept hold of her. The vibrations of his chuckle ricocheted through her, as he traced her folds with his tongue. She sobbed in pleasure as he teased and tormented her with his mouth and fingers. She felt him gently take hold of her hardened nub between his teeth, and cried out, bucking against him when he growled low, the vibrations triggering an orgasm stronger than anything she'd ever known.

She felt him chuckle against her as he slid first one and then two fingers inside of her. Her mouth opened wide in a choked cry as she arched her back, his name falling from her lips as she begged him for more. He laughed when she reached for him, grabbing the lapels of his jacket to haul him up over her. She kissed him as they both chuckled, and he smiled when she framed his face with her hands. He pulled back when she whispered in his ear, his brow furrowed as he tried to deny her request, but her persistence won out. She listened to him sigh as he closed his eyes, and watched as his face changed.

“I wasn’t afraid of you when you showed me before,” she reminded him, holding his crimson countenance in her hands. “And I’m not afraid of you now. I love you Lucifer Morningstar. All of you,” she promised him, and fell silent when he hid his devil’s face before swallowing her moan with a kiss.

He kissed her deeply, passionately, as he made his way back down her body, worshipping her inch by inch, until he was once more at the apex of her thighs. She watched him as he hooked her legs over his shoulders, feeling the heat of his breath upon her center as he spread her open with his fingers, only to cry out as he feasted upon her once more. He brought her to the very edges of her control, a point where she was almost falling over into the blissful abyss, only to bring her back down.

Three more times he brought her to the brink, heightening the sensations within her each time until he finally let her fall over into an orgasm that left her powerless and out of control. She cried his name as her vision blurred and darkened with the strength of the pleasure he was creating within her. Darkness surrounded her as he barely let her fall from the precipice of her orgasm before coaxing her through another one, stronger than before, and felt the world fade away.

"There you are," he said a few moments later, her brows furrowing to find him lying next to her instead of between her thighs. "You passed out," he purred with delight as he smiled at her.

"I did?" Chloe asked in wonder, the idea somehow humorous to her.

"You most certainly did," he told her with pride as he chuckled. "It's alright, love," he soothed her when she blinked tiredly, and kissed her brow. "Go to sleep."

"But you - "

"Can take care of myself," he assured her, as she felt her eyes droop, and within seconds she was asleep.

Lucifer released an amused sigh as he looked down on the woman sleeping in his bed. The thought that he would need to build her tolerance made him chuckle, and he tucked her beneath the blankets as he stood from the bed. He shook his head as he stepped out of the bedroom. The evidence of his arousal was painfully hard, and undeniable, but he found that surprisingly, he wasn't upset that she had fallen asleep.

"I'm surprised you didn't wake Trixie," Mazikeen said, and he looked up to meet her amused stare, as he found her leaning against the wall of the hallway. "Want some help with that?" she asked, glancing down at him with hunger. "Wow," she said with humor and surprise. "I've never known you to have to think about that answer."

"Neither have I," Lucifer said with confusion, and shook his head.

"Are you kidding me?" she said with disbelieving humor, and he glanced down as even he had to admit that he was losing his erection.

"Don't look at me," he said with annoyance as he moved down the hallway to the main part of the penthouse, Mazikeen following behind him. "The bloody thing has a mind of its own lately."

"More like _you_ only have eyes for a certain detective," she said, and sighed. "Did you two finally seal the deal."

"Not entirely," he said, and moved to the bar to pour himself a drink. "I made her pass out," he said with pure masculine pride, his smile wide and unapologetic.

Mazikeen laughed. "You're going to have to break her in," she teased, before her humor fell away to seriousness. "She's made her appearance," she told him, and Lucifer stilled, his drink halfway to his lips.

"Mum? Where?" Lucifer asked, a low growl coloring his words.

"A children's home about thirty miles from here," she told him, knowing he would like what she had to say next even less. "The children killed the adults as they slept, before turning on each other. Nothing has been reported to the media. The police are keeping it as tightly sealed as possible."

"But?" he asked her, knowing there was more she wasn't telling him.

"Chloe's been assigned to the case," she told him, and watched his eyes burn crimson as he growled low and angry. "There is only one known survivor," Mazikeen continued. "A girl Trixie's age, and from the reports already filed, the girl appears to bear a striking resemblance to Trixie."

"Then she knows," he said, anger rumbling through his words.

"It would appear so. She's sending a message," Mazikeen said, and watched as Hunter and Shadow appeared by Lucifer's sides, the hellhounds snarling in preparation for a fight, their eyes burning crimson.

"I won't let her hurt either of them," Lucifer promised darkly, his words colored by a rolling growl.

"Neither will we," Mazikeen said, and Lucifer met his brothers' gazes in turn as they appeared on either side of his demon.

"If it's a war mother wants," Amenadiel said, letting his thought hang unfinished in the air.

Lucifer returned his sentiment with a nod, his eyes filling from edge to edge with a fierce crimson glow. He would allow no harm to come to Chloe, or Trixie. His mother may have thrown down the first gauntlet in this battle with her actions taken at the children's home, but he would be the one to end the fight. She had no idea the monster she'd awakened within him when she had threatened the woman and child he held dear. For all the power he had come to possess as an angel – as the ruler of Hell, he had never known a greater power than when he was standing in defense of the ones he loved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you that know them and would have recognized the names, yes, the band mentioned "Stitch These Wounds" is a fictionalized version of The Black Veil Brides. Andy Purdy = Andy Bierszack.


	31. Chapter 30 "The Devil's Heart"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a bit since I've updated and since you've seen him. As such, I felt the need to remind you all that my Uriel is not the same as the one seen in the show. He's kinder, not jealous or envious, and doesn't seek to prove his superiority in any manner. And, he looks like this guy: https://www.geekbomb.net/wp-content/uploads/2017/07/Joe-Manganiello-1078x516.jpg

AN: Lucifer and all recognizable characters belong to Jerry Bruckheimer and FOX television. Set post 'Take Me Back to Hell'. . (Written prior to the start of season 2.)

 

Summary: There is only one thing that can make an immortal vulnerable, only one thing that can hurt an angel aside from another angel - their mate. It was only a rumor, a baseless myth, something Amenadiel had never believed, until it happened to Lucifer.

 

 

 

 

Memento Mori

Chapter 30

_The Devil’s Heart_

by WhisperingWolf

 

 

He stood silent beneath the light of the quarter moon, the slow night breeze ruffling his dark hair as it whispered through the trees. Lifting his chin as he watched the tiny woman step from between the stand of pine trees, he studied her as she walked toward him. Five-foot-one, delicate and slender with long flowing honey blonde hair, and a peaches-and-cream complexion. She wasn’t dressed for the weather at all, her spaghetti-strap grey tank top and small white-washed denim shorts speaking of a life lived in the warm weather of a southern climate and not the cold weather of the Montana city he found himself in.

The wind changed direction, blowing from behind him to push him forward as it rushed at her, blowing her hair up and out behind her in a powerful dance that snapped in the air. Wherever she had come from, her friends and family had reported her missing. Her family was left in ruins, distraught and desperate as they searched for any sign of her, but there would be none to be found, and he knew that better than anyone.

His father never had been one to give too much thought to the vessels he took, the bodies he possessed or the often-broken psyche of the humans left behind once he was done. She was too thin, he thought as he narrowed his eyes, too young. He pushed forward into the edges of the vision whispering in his mind, looked back on the road she had traveled, and shook his head. South Carolina, that was where she was from, and only two weeks shy of her eighteenth birthday when she had disappeared. The condition of her body told him that it had been days since she’d last eaten – possibly weeks – her eyes beginning to take on a sunken appearance.

“You disapprove?” she asked as she came to a stop in front of him, her blue eyes staring into his, and he narrowed his dark eyes in response.

“I’ve never been fond of your use of human hosts, Father, no,” Uriel said as he crossed his arms over his chest. “The patterns I see allow me to know the life that lies ahead of her after your visitation has come to an end. I have seen this habit of yours destroy families, destroy lives, yet still you use it. A bubbling brook, a burning bush,” he shook his head as he waved toward the park they stood in, “in this area – the whisper of the wind through the trees. These are all methods you could use to speak to me – to any of us – yet you insist on human hosts.”

The young girl’s eyes narrowed as her expression tightened, her brows furrowing as she pursed her lips. “I didn’t come here to debate my methods with you, Uriel, or to call you home. You have a new task now, a new assignment.”

“A new assignment?” Uriel repeated, his eyes narrowing beneath a furrowed brow.

The air seemed to still around him, growing thick and heavy as his eyes lost focus, his attention turned to the images that began to fill his mind. They rose around him from the shadows like so many ghosts, faces of his siblings, faces of those connected to them as a pattern began to form. He shook his head as he watched one faded image fall on top of another until the images began to weave and dance through one another. So many voices came at him at once, whispering to him, only to rise in volume until they were screaming for his attention, demanding that he listen.

Uriel’s eyes flared wide as he shook his head, disbelief warring with anger as he stared at the vessel his father possessed. “You can’t be serious,” he protested. “The last time you did something like this –“

“That human was intended as a weapon,” his father interrupted, the alto tone hard. “They had one single purpose and instead of carrying it out, they were driven mad by it instead. This time will be different.”

Uriel shook his head as his brow furrowed. “What makes you so certain?”

“Aside from the patterns you have already seen, my son? You should know why.” She pushed her hair back over her shoulder as she turned away from him. “The one I chose is not devout. They don’t even believe in me at all – well, not entirely, anyway. And aside from that, they would perform this role with or without my interference at all.” She turned back to pin Uriel with a commanding glower. “You will be the guide to Devil’s Guardian and a protector to the Devil’s Heart. Everything is in motion and has been so since the night of the Reckoning.”

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” Uriel whispered as he watched the woman’s eyes glaze over and roll up as she lost consciousness.

Uriel darted forward, catching the human girl as she began to fall, his father’s influence gone. There never were any goodbyes, no gentle exits. He never gave any thought to the vessels He left behind at all. It was that same arrogance that had driven so many of his siblings to question their father, himself included.

Turning his dark eyes down to the girl in his arms, Uriel pressed his lips together in a thin line, his jaw clenched. He needed to take her to a hospital, he thought as he looked around himself before spreading his wings and taking flight. She needed to be treated for the malnourishment and dehydration she was clearly suffering, as well as the migraine and confusion he knew she would be saddled with upon waking. The only thing he could hope for was that she remembered nothing of this, he thought as he landed beside an unoccupied ambulance next to a hospital’s emergency room and laid her gently down on an empty gurney before taking flight once more. If his father allowed her any mercy at all, let it come in the form of complete amnesia from the time that He’d possessed her to the moment she woke in the hospital.

 

**~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~**

  


She could hear the dual tones in the distance, soft at first, but growing stronger like the rush of a tide, her ears swiveling to catch the sound of the familiar howl. She had heard him first almost two weeks ago, a tone she would never forget, could never ignore. Tracker was here on earth, her son was here, and he had his own charge. The sound of his howl told her that much, Shadow thought as she stood from the floor, trotting out to the open balcony as Hunter came scrambling toward her from the back hallway, his powerful bark echoing off the walls as he ran.

Stretching out her neck as she shook her head hard enough to slap her ears against herself, Shadow snapped her jaws at him, only to be ignored as he ran in front of her, his claws screeching against the polished marble as he scrambled for purchase. Rolling her eyes when he looked to be heading on a collision course for the glass wall that separated the safety of the penthouse from the sheer drop below, Shadow trotted after him, snapping her jaws around the middle of his thick tail before plopping down to sit on her haunches.

Hunter yelped at her bite, spinning back to snap at her only to lose his footing and fall on his side, his momentum slowing as he spun toward the glass until he stopped, the pointed end of his nose just inches from the wall. He released a groaning bark as he lifted his head to look back at her, narrowing his eyes when she dropped his tail and stood on all fours in order to step around him primly, her head held high and proud. He snorted at her, clicking his jaws at her but she ignored his indignant reprimand, swinging her tail hard enough to thwap him across his muzzle.

He released a groaning yip as he scrambled to his feet, snapping at her only to be ignored by her again as she stepped closer to the wall. Shadow opened her jaws as she took in a deep breath, filling her lungs before lifting her nose into the air as she howled, the dual tone calling their lost pack member back to them. Hunter’s howl joined hers, the sounds wrapping around each other, braiding together in a high and low-pitched duality of longing and excitement.

“Shadow?”

Shadow fell silent as she looked back behind her, finding her charge standing in her cotton nightgown, the stuffed devil-bear hanging by one paw from the girl’s right hand. She still had her eyes closed, Shadow noted as she trotted back to Trixie, listening to the girl sigh as she rubbed her balled up fist against her eye. Laying down on the floor beside her, Shadow waited for Trixie to climb onto her back, the human child fisting her hands in her fur as she laid down flat over her back, snuggling into the thickness of her coat.

Pushing herself up to stand slowly, Shadow whined softly, turning her head back to nuzzle against the child. Pushing her into a more balanced position as she stepped back over to Hunter, she stood silent beside him as they listened to the wind. There it was! Far in the distance, she could hear the answering two-toned howl carried in the darkness and lifted by the winds. Tracker was answering them but he wasn’t moving from his position. Instead, he was asking them to come to him.

“I got you, Sha’ow,” Trixie mumbled, the girl’s grip on her fur tightening as she tightened her knees around the hellhound’s ribs for purchase.

Turning her head back to lick Trixie’s cheek, Shadow trotted toward the elevator, Hunter waiting for her beside the metal doors. This child was hers to protect, she couldn’t leave her alone, but she couldn’t remain behind while Hunter went to greet Tracker alone, either. Stepping into the elevator with Hunter, Shadow turned around to face the control panel, watching as Hunter pressed his nose against the button for the ground floor before turning to look at the girl lying on her back. He chuffed at Trixie, nudging her gently with his nose until she mumbled, reaching up a tired hand to rub his snout in return. She snuggled back into Shadow’s fur, twining her fingers around the thick tufts of dark hair as she groaned, burying her face in the fur as she returned to sleep.

The elevator doors opened into the back room of the club, Hunter slipping out first as he moved to stand in the hall. Shadow watched him lift his nose into the air, his ears swiveling as he tipped his head. He looked back at her after a moment, nodding for her to join him and she stepped slowly from the metal carriage, careful to keep the girl on her back in place as she moved.

“Hey, you two.” Shadow turned her head to look for the voice that greeted them, her jaws falling open in a wide smile when she found Rocky moving toward the back door. “Haven’t seen Lucifer since the night of the grand ball, for our little princess here,” he said with a smile, reaching out to smooth his hand over Trixie’s hair. “Guess he and her mother have been holed up together,” he assessed with a chuckle, looking back up to meet Shadow’s gaze. “Heard your pal howling out there,” he said, his eyes narrowing as he tipped his head. “Huh. That’s strange, I don’t think anyone else heard it.” He shook his head as he moved to open the door that lead into the alley between LUX and the building next to it. “You want me to take her, Shadow?” he asked when the hounds moved to step around him.

Shadow shook her head, offering up a groaning chuff as she bopped his hand with her nose.

“Okay,” Rocky said with a chuckle, petting her head before scratching her behind the ears as she stepped past him. “Be safe, you two,” he called after them as he shut the door behind them.

They wouldn’t be able to move very fast – at least she wouldn’t, Shadow thought, not without dislodging her charge. Quickening her pace to a slow trot, she kept her attention focused on the child drowsing on her back as well as the howls calling to them from a distance. Trixie groaned, jostled into a state that somewhere in between awake and asleep, if her sigh was anything to go by. Shadow shook her head, clicking her teeth at Hunter as she slowed to a walk before coming to a stop as Trixie moved. She felt the girl’s grip on her fur tighten, her body moving as she tucked the bear between their bodies, her knees tightening as she held on tightly.

“Okay,” Trixie mumbled, squeezing her knees tighter, and Shadow released a roughened bark as her ears folded back against her head, her eyes focused ahead of her as she took off at a dead run.

 

**~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~  
**

 

She was cossetted by an incredible warmth, softer than silk, heavier than one of her grandmother’s quilts. Her rise to consciousness was slow, a sense of complete safety and serenity surrounding her, infusing her, body and soul, as the light of the waking world broke through the thin membrane of her eyelids, welcoming her into the new dawn. She breathed in deeply as she turned, burrowing deeper into the warmth that blanketed her, her eyes fluttering open slowly only to be greeted with the purest of white – as brilliant as fresh fallen snow under moonlight.

“Feathers?” Chloe whispered, her brow furrowing as she gasped at the sight of the giant wing that was draped over her naked body.

The wings hadn’t been there at all the morning after the ball, or anytime the day before, not that she recalled, anyway. She couldn’t subdue the giggle that sounded from her, her eyes falling closed as she buried her fingers deep into the giant plush feathers, feeling the muscle and bone beneath. She bit her lip as she moved her fingertips in slow circles, massaging the muscles she found as she pressed deeper in response to the heady groan her sleeping companion released. Chloe gasped as the wing folded around her, the strength of it surprising her as she was pulled closer, tucked beneath Lucifer as he woke slowly, his lips finding hers, his eyes never opening.

A broken whimper caught in the back of her throat as she arched her back, pressing closer to him as she rocked her hips, spreading her legs wider, in response to the questing fingers that sought her out. He growled into the kiss, a low rumble of appreciation tempered by something deeper as his tongue slipped inside her mouth to tangle with hers. She broke the kiss with a choked cry, baring her neck as she rolled her head back against the pillow beneath her, when he slipped one finger then two inside of her.

Her whole body jerked when he bit down on her neck, and she knew there would be a bruise left behind. Lucifer moaned her name as he trailed nipping kisses across her collarbone, down over the rise of her breast, to take one stiffened peak into his mouth as his hand found its twin. Her hips bucked against the hand he had buried between her legs of their own accord, his touch arousing her, tormenting her, goading her further as his fingers rolled her nipple, plucking at it, his tongue repeating the motion with the other, the bud caught gently between his teeth as he pleasured her.

“ _Lucifer!_ ” Chloe gasped as he slipped a third finger inside of her dripping core, the pad of his thumb rubbing slow circles over the part of her that desired his touch the most. “ _Please!_ ” she begged of him, her breaths coming in short gasping pants.

Lucifer chuckled as he kissed his way down her abdomen, his tongue drawing lazy circles around her belly button before dipping inside as he increased the pace of his fingers inside of her. He growled when she reached down over his back, her hands slipping past his shoulders to find the joints where his wings connected to his back. She didn’t know how she knew it would be an erogenous zone, but she didn’t question it, either, following her instincts as she curled her fingers, dragging her blunt nails over the corded muscle. His reaction was instant, his growl fierce as he surged back up over her, capturing her mouth with his as he kissed her deeply, his fingers slipping out of her as his hand lifted to tangle in her hair.

She heard the powerful snap in the air, felt the rush of wind around her as his wings spread to their full extension of their own accord before draping around her, hiding her, folding beneath her, cosseting her. She cried out his name when he thrust into her, her legs lifting as she hooked her knees over his hips, his feathers silk against her skin, her ankles crossing at the small of his back to hold him closer, pull him deeper. His name broke from her like a prayer, a cry of damnation and salvation as he pulled out of her slowly only to thrust back in, driving her down to the bed below as he growled her name, told her to repeat her motion, to do it again, and she acquiesced, curling her fingers into claws as he she drug her nails up along his wing joints.

His thrusts became faster, more powerful, his hips slamming against hers with a mighty crack that she delighted in as she tightened her legs around his waist, pulling him to her, crying his name as he quickened his pace. Her hands moved, her nails scraping through layers of feathers as she clawed for purchase and he growled in appreciation. She cried out as the world exploded around her, her hands closing around fistfuls of feathers as he roared above her, the pulse of his orgasm driving her over the edge again and again. Her racing heart began to calm moments later as she felt him tremble above her, his wings no longer beneath her but draped around her as he braced on himself forearms. She panted as she opened her eyes, releasing her grip on him slowly as he collapsed on top of her.

He panted as he kissed her, only to pull back with a hiss, his head thrown back and eyes closed, his face contorted in a mask of pleasure as she massaged the skin and muscle beneath the feathers she had clung to just moments before. He growled her name, the sound of it so desperate, so full of need, as she felt him harden once more inside of her, his hips moving slowly as he began to rock against her. She choked on his name, whimpering as she smiled wickedly before throwing her weight to one side, unbalancing him as she rolled them over and rose on her knees above him.

Lucifer either didn’t notice or didn’t care that he was once more a winged angel, the feathered appendages wrapping around her back as he pushed himself up onto his hands, opening his mouth to take her nipple in between his lips as she rode him. Chloe threw her head back, her mouth falling open, her eyes squeezing closed as the last vestiges of sanity shattered around her, the aching pain of her burgeoning orgasm mixing with the pleasure of its release as reason gave way to sensation and reality was lost under the persistence of Lucifer’s attentions.

She cried out his name as she came down from one orgasm only to be pushed over the edge of another, his mouth increasing the pressure of the suction on her nipple as he tightened his wings around her, supporting her as she leaned back against them. His hand slipped down between their bodies, his finger and thumb pinching her clit and rolling it as another orgasm crashed through her as she felt him swell inside of her only to burst as his orgasm pulsed inside of her in time with the contraction of her muscles.

Moments later, Chloe fell forward, landing on top of his chest as he laughed and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer still as he draped his wings over her sweat-soaked form. She laughed softly, breathlessly, as she curled closer to him, tucking her face into the curve of his throat to kiss his neck as her eyes fluttered closed. Sighing heavily as she cuddled on top of him, she felt him still, every muscle becoming tense seconds before his head thumped back against the pillows beneath him.

“Oh, bloody hell,” was the last thing she heard him say as she fell into a dreamless sleep, wrapped in his arms, surrounded by his wings.

 

**~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~**

  


Lucifer looked down at the woman lying curled on her side next to him on the bed. Her dark blonde hair spilled out on the pillow behind her, one hand tucked beneath the pillow, the other tucked beneath his. He reached out to her, tucking her hair behind the delicate shell of her ear and kissed her forehead only to narrow his eyes at the thing covering her.

 _Thing._ That was the best way he had of describing the returned appendages that he hadn’t asked for and didn’t want. He’d tried to tuck them away once already, only for his left wing to unfurl on its own accord and drape itself over Chloe. He’d love to say that he had some control over the decision, but it didn’t feel like he did. He’d even tried to roll on his back once, only for his right wing to slide across the bed, push itself underneath Chloe, and then fold up toward him to bring the sleeping woman against his side.

 _He_ was supposed to have control over _them_ , he thought with a sigh as he rolled away from Chloe, the wing tucking itself away by instinct alone as he moved. Lucifer stood from the bed as he reached for the blankets, tucking them around Chloe before padding barefoot across the room to the closet. It didn’t take him long to find a pair of boxers and a robe to tie around himself, and though he knew he should shower, he wasn’t quite ready to wash Chloe’s scent from him just yet. There had been a time when walking around his own home in just a pair of boxer shorts hadn’t bothered him at all. At least, not until the first night Trixie had stayed over and he’d forgotten to put on a robe. He hadn’t been naked, but she had seen his scars, and he would never forget that moment, no matter how long he lived.

_Lucifer rolled his eyes as his lips twitched with a grin he couldn’t quite suppress. Chloe and Trixie had stayed over last night, both Decker women sleeping tucked on either side of him, the youngest with the stuffed devil-bear he’d given her. She had been absent from his bed when he’d woken moments ago, and here he found her, asleep on his couch, the hideous little devil-bear tucked in her arms, and the credits for All Dogs go to Heaven playing on the television._

_She called his name when he turned off the TV, intending to let her sleep a little longer. He released an inward sigh as he sat down on the coffee table in front of her, reaching out to tuck her hair behind her ear as her eyes fluttered open._

_“You have school soon?” he asked, watching as she frowned tiredly and shook her head against the throw pillow she was laying on. “Hungry?”_

_She shrugged, her dark eyes slipping away from his as she looked down. She was still thinking about the day before and the conversation with Daniel, he realized as he reached for her, catching her beneath her arms and lifting her up against his chest. He stood from the coffee table with the child in his arms, pursing his lips when the satin and fur bear thumped against his back. She tucked her face into the curve of his throat, her legs wrapping around his waist as she held onto him. He didn’t have any wise words to offer her, aside from the offering of beating her father senseless – something Chloe had told wouldn’t help and had expressly told him not to do._

_“Pancakes?” he asked the girl in his arms as he carried her into the kitchen. He turned his head to kiss her temple, rubbing her back when she tightened her legs around his waist, clinging to him as though she feared he intended to abandon her. She shook her head against his shoulder, tightening her arms around him as she curled closer, and he sighed. “Waffles?” Again, she shook her head. “French toast?”_

_Ah, that got a reaction, he thought as she lifted her head, tipping back enough to pin him with a confused frown. “Like the frozen sticks Mommy puts in the microwave?” she asked._

_“Bloody hell, no,” he responded, duly offended that the child thought he would cook_ anything _in a microwave. “Do you like French toast?” he asked and watched her nod. “Want to help me make it?”_

_“How?” Trixie asked as she narrowed her eyes, pouting prettily._

_“Your mother made those delicious little sandwiches,” he told her with a shake of his head, amused by her response. “You’re saying she’s never made you French toast?”_

_“Those sandwiches are the only thing Mommy knows how to make. Everything else is in a box,” she offered with a shrug._

_“You Decker women,” he mock-complained with a sigh as he shook his head. “How have you survived so long?”_

_“Delivery,” Trixie replied with a shrug. He watched her gaze fall to his chest, pursing his lips as he realized too late that he thought to tie on a robe. “Lucifer . . . “_

_“Moppet?” he called to her when she remained silent._

_Her mouth opened, her eyes meeting his briefly before her gaze fell once more, her mouth closing. “If . . . “ She took in a breath as she fell silent. “If I were better . . . “_

_“Don’t,” he demanded, his voice hard as he gently tipped her head up with a curled finger beneath her chin. “There is nothing wrong with you. You were not and you are not bad, do you hear me, Beatrice?” he asked, his tone firm and unyielding._

_Trixie looked away as her chin trembled. “You don’t get it!” she yelled at him, thumping her bear against his chest before hugging it close._

_“Then tell me,” he instructed her as he moved to the small table behind the butcher’s block and sat down with her. “Tell me what I don’t understand,” he said as he smoothed away her tears with the pad of his thumb._

_Trixie sniffled as more tears fell. “I got_ sick! _” she cried as she shook her head. “I was supposed to be at a sleepover, but I got sick and Lana’s mommy brought me home, she watched me go in from her car. Mommy and Daddy were in the kitchen, they didn’t hear me come in. That was the first time I ever heard Daddy being nice to Mommy. He made her laugh and she was smiling and he was laughing, too!”_

_“Darling, I don’t understand,” he told her with a shake of his head. “What does that have to do with anything?”_

_“I wasn’t supposed to_ be there! _” she snapped, crumbling before his eyes as she fell against him, her tears falling against his bare skin. “The only time Daddy was ever nice to Mommy was when I wasn’t supposed to be there! I’m why he’s mean to Mommy.”_

_Lucifer clenched his jaw as he closed his eyes, wrapping his arms tight around Trixie as he hugged her to his chest. It was the only time that he had ever felt the desire to have his wings back. Not to fly, not to be stronger in power, but simply to have them to wrap around the child in his arms, to shield her from the pain she was suffering at the hands of the one person who should want to protect her the most. And wasn’t it just fitting, he thought ruefully, that the child who had been thrown away by her own father and convinced that she wasn’t good enough had found comfort and safety in the arms of the Devil?_

_He held her until she quieted, petted her unruly hair as she sniffled and leaned back to look at him, one balled up fist rubbing against her eye. She closed her eyes when he kissed her brow, hooked her arm over his shoulder when he stood from the chair and rested her head against his collarbone. He sighed, his breath ruffling her hair as he carried her with him to the walk-in fridge, handing her the tall carton of heavy whipping cream to hold as well as carton of eggs. She giggled softly when he carried her back out, tipping her just enough to one side to let her set down the things in her arms._

_“Bread,” he listed as he carried her to the far counter, lifting the bag of Texas Toast and handing it to her. “I usually make my own, but I discovered yesterday that I was out of yeast. I was on my way to get it when I saw that bloody thing,” he teased her as he eyed the bear in her arms._

_The girl in his arms smiled as she hugged the stuffed toy closer to her chest. “It’s you,” she told him, “but for me.”_

_“Is it now?” he asked in return, one brow arched as he offered her a lopsided grin and carried her to the spice rack. “Cinnamon and nutmeg, and just a dash of clove,” he said as he gathered the bottles of spices from the neatly tiered rack. “Beatrice?” he called to her when he felt her still in his hold, the edge of fear in her soul darkening it as her brow furrowed in horror her face turning ashen as her eyes widened. “Beatrice,_ what _?” he demanded as he set the spices down and pulled her back just enough to see her face, but she wouldn’t look at him, her eyes locked on something behind him._

_She wouldn’t talk to him, wouldn’t speak at all, tears rushing to fill her impossibly wide eyes as they spilled over onto her cheeks. He shook his head as he set her down on the counter, his hands holding her in place as he bent down to look at her. She shook her head when he called her name. He cupped her face in his hands as he forced her to look at him, the worry he felt overwhelming in its ferocity. He wanted to demand answers from her but the moment her eyes met his, he watched her fall apart, her arms reaching out for him as she surged toward him, crashing against his chest as she held onto him in a stranglehold, sobbing into his shoulder._

_“What the bloody hell happened?” he demanded as he turned to look behind him only to see nothing but his own reflection in the polished glass of the window. “Beatrice?” he called to her again, stilling when he found Chloe standing beside the butcher’s block watching them. “I don’t know what happened,” he told her helplessly._

_“She saw your scars,” Chloe told him softly as she nodded at the window._

_“My scars?” Lucifer repeated, his brow furrowed deeply in confusion, as he shook his head. “What do they have to do with anything?”_

_“Somebody hurt you!” Trixie hiccupped as she pulled back to look at him, the expression on her face both furious and horrified. “Why would someone hurt you? Why would they do that to you?” she demanded of him, her words broken as she choked on her sobs._

_“Darling,” he began in an effort to soothe her only to have her cling to him once more, her face buried in the curve of his throat. He looked at Chloe, turning his head just enough to rest his chin on the child’s hair as he tightened his arms around her. “Everyone else on this bloody planet has ignored them or not cared one bit that they’re there at all, but you got upset when you saw them, demanding to know what happened, and now your spawn is crying over them. All because of a bloody set of scars?” he asked her incredulously._

_“Because somebody hurt you!” Trixie shouted at him, her voice muffled as she refused to lift her head or release him in any manner. “You’re ours, Lucifer, and somebody hurt you, and Mommy will make them pay. Nobody’s allowed to hurt you!”_

She had cried for almost an hour, Lucifer recalled with an inward sigh as he stepped into the hall. Trixie hadn’t been willing to let him go for longer than the time it took her to disappear into the bathroom and take care of her needs before she was once again cuddled against him. He had wanted to be annoyed, he remembered, shaking his head at himself as he recalled being the one to lift her up each and every time without her even having to ask. She hadn’t walked anywhere that day, content to let him carry her and for a reason he still couldn’t fully understand, he hadn’t minded at all.

“Morning, you three,” Lucifer greeted the hounds as he stepped into the kitchen only to stop halfway to the butcher’s block and turn around. “ _Three?_ ” he repeated as he stared at the giant hell beasts. Shadow lifted her head to stare at him, her ears folding back as she issued a short low chuffing growl before clicking her teeth at him. “Don’t you chide me for being too loud,” he fired back, narrowing his eyes at her. “When Chloe and I turned in last night there were two of you – just you and Hunter,” he said as he arched a brow at Shadow. “And now there are three. Tracker,” he called to the newest addition.

Tracker lifted his head from inside the circle of bodies he and his parents created, their tails hidden beneath the bodies Lucifer could only barely see, and he froze. Bodies. As in two. As in Trixie and someone else. His eyes flared wide as he turned to meet Tracker’s gaze, the hellhound calm as he held Lucifer’s gaze with the fierce defiance of a guardian standing in protection of their charge.

“You can’t exit Hell on your own,” Lucifer said to the beast. “Who brought you?” he asked, watching as Tracker turn his head, and followed the beast’s dark gaze.

“I did,” Uriel said from where he stood against the far wall, a mug of coffee in his hands. “Six years ago.”

“ _Six years?_ ” Lucifer repeated incredulously. “That was . . . “

“Just after you left Hell,” Uriel finished his brother’s thought with a slow nod. “Tracker was the first one I saw and you weren’t there to ask. It’s a long story, if you want to listen,” he offered.

Lucifer pressed his lips together as he released a heavy exhalation through his nose, nodding as he turned away. “Who’s the other child? Whose spawn is that?” he asked as he turned back.

“Step closer and see for yourself,” Uriel instructed. “There’s no mistaking the resemblance, or what he is.”

Lucifer narrowed his eyes as he stared at Uriel for another moment before turning back to the tight giant circle of hellhounds. Tracker, Shadow, and Hunter all had their heads resting on each other, the space between their bodies hidden from view. It took only a nod of his head, a flick of his wrist, to command the beasts and Lucifer watched as they each slowly lifted their heads, careful not to disturb the children who were using their tails as a bed.

Trixie, he recognized right away, her unruly dark hair fanned out around her shoulders, the cotton nightgown she wore crumpled at the bottom and gathered up just above her knee. She was lying on her right side facing him, the thick tails of the hellhounds cushioning her. Her arms were wrapped around the other child lying inside the makeshift nest with her, her treasured Lucifer bear hanging from her hand behind the boy’s back.

Boy. Lucifer narrowed his eyes. Part of him wanted to separate the children, demand that the boy stay far away from Trixie, and though he knew the desire to do so was in some manner irrational, it also wouldn’t go away. He didn’t separate them, though, he didn’t even touch them as he crouched down, his eyes changing focus as he stared at the boy’s hair and the bulge beneath the shirt on his back. He turned his head without taking his eyes off the child.

“Tell me you’re joking,” he demanded of Uriel.

“It – or rather, _he_ – is right there in front of you, Lucifer,” Uriel replied, his footsteps growing closer as he moved toward him. “The hair . . . the wings,” he said as he came to a stop beside Lucifer. “That child is the spitting image of his father, and he has his power, too.”

“That child is Nephilim,” Lucifer said, his voice a low growl, as he stood. “Gabriel never said a word about this.”

“That’s because Gabriel doesn’t know.” Lucifer turned to pin his brother with a wide angry stare, the barest hint of crimson flashing in the depths of his eyes. “It had to be that way, or Gabriel never would have done what he needed to.”

“ _Father’s plan_ , was it?” Lucifer spit angrily, following after Uriel as his brother left the kitchen. “That’s why you brought Tracker out, was it? To protect the _child_?”

“His mother,” Uriel answered, moving to sit on one of the stools in front of the bar and released a deep exhalation. “He’s not the enemy, Lucifer. He’s not like the others that existed centuries ago. There is no hate in that child’s heart and I know you can see for yourself that his soul is pure.”

“Talk,” Lucifer demanded, as he rounded behind the bar to pour himself and his brother glasses of scotch. He was still uncertain if he was ready to accept that child but he wanted to know the story.  “Where is his mother now? Why is she not with him?” he demanded, narrowing his eyes as he looked up at Uriel, watching as his brother lifted the glass to sip at the liquor inside.

“Gabby is – _was_ – his mother.”

“Was?” Lucifer interrupted with a frown, his glass halfway to his lips. “Where is she?” he asked as he set the glass down.

“New Haven Memorial Hospital,” he replied as he stared down into his scotch, turning the glass slowly between his hands. “In a coma. She’ll die before the year is out,” he revealed as he lifted the glass, downed the rest of the scotch inside in one gulp before setting the glass down and meeting Lucifer’s gaze. “To the humans, it will appear that she had advanced, end stage lung cancer that metastasized to her bones, lymph nodes, and blood.”

“And the truth?” Lucifer asked, his brow arched, his gaze hard.

“It was the price Father demanded for what she asked. Her life for his.” Uriel sighed heavily as he slipped off the stool, turning away from the bar as he shook his head. “The only way to protect her son was to send him away, to send him to you. But she was still scared and for good reason, so she asked that I hide him, that I bless him with protection so that the only one who could see him would be Tracker, until the moment that he arrived here.”

“What is his role in all of this? What was hers?”

Uriel released a heavy exhalation, the sound caught somewhere between a sigh and a laugh. “To understand that, you have to understand how they met,” he replied. “They were a bit like you and Chloe, I guess. They found each other at a time when they both needed each other, but the strangest thing about all of it?” he said as he turned back to meet Lucifer’s gaze. “I couldn’t see Gabby. When I looked at her, I couldn’t see a pattern with her, I didn’t know where she fit or what would become of her. And Sammy,” he chuckled as he shook his head, “I can’t see a pattern for him at all.”

“Sammy?” Lucifer asked, frowning as he stepped around the bar.

“Gabriel Samael Foggerty. Named after his father, and the beloved brother his father always talked about,” Uriel told him with a bittersweet grin. “His mother’s words, not mine,” he offered as he stepped through the main room and toward the back hall.

Lucifer followed behind him as they walked toward the open balcony, Uriel’s gaze focused on the downtown skyline. His brother released a deep sigh as he shook his head, bracing his hands on the glass wall as he dropped his head.

“Gabby was a special woman,” he began softly. “She saw the very worst that humanity had to offer, and still, she was one of the most open and welcoming people I’ve ever known.” He turned around, leaning back against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest as he met Lucifer’s gaze. “Special Agent Samantha Gabrielle Foggerty of the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit. You would’ve liked her,” he said, his lips twisting up to the side in a bittersweet grin. “She never questioned Gabriel or me. She didn’t want to know what heaven was like, didn’t really ask about Hell, either. From the way Gabe talked about her, she seemed to be more comfortable thinking of us as a . . . different species, then she did as angels. Maybe it was because she didn’t believe in God, and after seeing a few of her case files one night, I honestly can’t say I blamed her. If it wasn’t for being what we are, for knowing what we know, if I was just a human on this earth working the job she did with no viable proof to the contrary, I might not believe, either.”

“Really? That bad?” Lucifer asked as he narrowed his eyes.

“The case I found on her desk, she said it was from her ‘solved’ pile. Copies of files she kept that reminded her of why she did the work she did, if she ever struggled. The . . . man . . . “ He ground his teeth together, his expression one of distaste. “He was called ‘The Clown Maker’. He took children, Trixie’s age – Sammy’s age – and younger, drugged them with a paralytic, and then carved their faces, cutting into them, peeling off their skin in such a manner that it looked like clown makeup. Those children were awake and aware of everything that was happening, they could feel everything, they just couldn’t move, couldn’t fight back, couldn’t even scream. She and her team were able to stop him – to kill him – they were able to rescue his last victim, but those were the kinds of cases she worked on. Those were the things she saw, and the hell of it was, Gabby told me once that that case, wasn’t even the worst of it. That as far as the cases she’d worked on before and after, that was about a five on a scale of one to ten. The thing that made it so horrendous to her and others was that the victims were children.”

Lucifer sneered as he clenched his fists. “He’s in Hell now, getting every _bit_ of what he deserves.” He shook his head as he looked at Uriel. “How did she fit into all of it?”

Uriel offered a pouting smile. “She had the connections he needed, was able to pair him with the people who could train him to track humans, to recognize the signs of an abduction and chase down leads. He, in turn, was able to help her regain her hope, her drive to work the cases that she did. He met her just after her father’s funeral. He was only supposed to be there to pick up the papers Chloe’s father left with him regarding Chloe’s kidnapping. The rest, as they say, is history.”

There was a comfortable silence that fell between them, both of them lost in their own thoughts.

“They fell in love,” Uriel said after a moment. “Gabby prayed to me, called me when Gabe’s nightmares were really bad, when the kidnappings and whatever else was happening was beyond his ability to handle. She taught him how to separate himself, how to recognize what emotions were his and what weren’t and how to build a wall between them in order to focus – something Father never did. Gabe was getting ready to leave, to move on and continue the search to shut down the operation that you and Chloe are working on now. Then one night, the thing that scared him – scares even you – the most, happened.” He paused as he met Lucifer’s gaze. “Gabby got shot. Three rounds went straight through her vest. She was damn lucky to have survived it, but after that, Gabe wouldn’t leave her side, and he needed to. He had a purpose and staying there as her personal guardian wasn’t it. So, I went to Hell. Imagine my surprise to find you and Maze gone.”

“And you brought Tracker to guard over her,” Lucifer said, watching as his brother nodded. “And the child in there?”

“The night I brought her Tracker, Father asked me to bless Gabby, he just never said why. And then, fourth months later, she prayed for me, called me down and sounded scared as hell.” Uriel shook his head, his brows rising high on his forehead. “Gabe had always told her that getting pregnant by an angel wasn’t possible, and as we don’t get human diseases, STDs weren’t something she had to worry about, either.”

“Which simply means they never used condoms,” Lucifer said, scoffing as he shook his head. “Damn right of her to be scared! Centuries past when the Nephilim numbered enough to create a war, they _tore_ their way out of their mothers’ wombs! That could have been her fate!”

“Could have been but wasn’t,” Uriel denied. “Though if you remember, those Nephilim were created by our brothers who had fallen. They were bad from the start.” He sighed as he stepped away from the wall. “There was no doubt in her mind who the father was, and the research she’d already done – granted I’m not entirely certain what _Google_ knows about a half-breed of a human and angel – but it was enough to send her into a panic.”

“And you never bothered to tell Gabriel?” Lucifer snapped.

Uriel leveled him with a hard stare, the expression on his face telling Lucifer that he should already know the answer. “If I had, he would have dropped everything and gone right back to her before anyone could talk him out of it. He had a job to do and so did she.”

Lucifer shook his head as he sipped at his scotch, turned to meet his brother’s gaze with anger. “ _That_ is Gabriel’s _son_ in there, and you thought it _best_ to keep that knowledge from him? I guess, I should be glad that I’m not the only one Father and everyone else decided to screw over.” He turned away only to spin back and pin Uriel with a fierce glower. “I was cast out of my home, but Gabriel – you took away his _son!_ Don’t expect him to get over that.”

 

**~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~**

She didn’t handle inactivity well, and she was beginning to learn that the detective didn’t, either. Only two days after the night Lucifer had held the ball for Trixie, giving the young girl the Father-daughter dance of her dreams, and her mother was right back here in the station. Mazikeen narrowed her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest and leaned against the desk, as she studied the shifting expression on Chloe’s face. The detective’s brows furrowed before smoothing out, one brow arching as she narrowed her eyes at the paper she was holding. It had been ten minutes now that she’d been reading the document, and Chloe still hadn’t said a word.

“I thought you weren’t supposed to be back in the office, yet,” she said as she rolled her eyes, trying not to be as annoyed as she felt. She hated inaction. “Chloe!”

Chloe released a harsh breath as she looked up, her eyes narrowed in irritation. “No,” she said with a heavy sigh. “I’m not supposed to be back yet. Currently, the computers and everything here still show me as being on administrative leave pending an investigation.”

“Then _why_ are we here?” she asked when Chloe turned her attention back down to the paper.

“This is the report I filed three weeks ago, the same one that is supposed to have been the reason Olivia threw me out, the reason we fought,” Chloe said, waving the paper as if it meant anything to Mazikeen.

“Your point?” Mazikeen asked as she shook her head.

“It’s been _changed_.” Mazikeen frowned as she snatched the paper away, looking over it, only to shake her head as she handed it back. “The file numbers for the cases I collected have been erased. Not blocked out, not covered up, like they would be in a document made to be confidential but _erased_. Olivia texted me about it this morning.”

“You said you had a copy of everything,” Mazikeen reminded her.

“I did,” Chloe confirmed as she nodded. “I gave those copies to Bobby and no one’s heard from him in three days.”

“You think something happened to him,” she stated as she stepped away from the desk, her feet shoulder width apart as she reached behind her for her curved blades secured at the small of her back. “So? Now, we hunt.”

“I don’t even know where to start, Maze,” Chloe told her with a shake of her head. “I don’t have anything to go on.”

“Last known, right? That’s what you told me once, where you always start,” she reminded the detective.

“The GPS on his cell phone last pinged at a warehouse down at the port. The building’s abandoned, no one’s been there in years, at least . . . “

Mazikeen narrowed her eyes as she stared at Chloe. “At least, what?”

Chloe looked up at her slowly. “At least, that’s what the report said.”

The demon scoffed as she arched a brow at Chloe. “And how many reports have already been doctored?” she reminded the detective. “Chloe, I feel like hunting. You can join me or you can stay here, but either way – “

“You’re going hunting,” Chloe finished with a shake of her head, her lips twisting up at one side. Her eyes narrowed as she turned her attention out into the bull pen. “We need to go. That’s Internal Affairs. I can’t be seen here.”

“Thought they were in on it,” Mazikeen said with confusion, following after Chloe as the detective slipped into the back hall and out through the stairwell.

“We know there are leaks in IA, but no, they’re not in on the plan between Olivia and I.” Chloe sighed heavily. “The number of cops that have been dismissed, gone missing, or been shot in the line of duty – my father included . . . That number is just over a hundred, and that’s over the past ten years alone. From what Lucifer found when he had the house I was taken to as a child investigated, this ring goes back before the 1950s, according to Gabriel, all the way back to the last few decades of the 1800s. From what Bobby told me a few weeks ago, it’s almost like an apprenticeship. The new players to rise up and take lead appear to be some of the ones who were kidnapped. They can train them, get them to a point that everything they see and do is considered normal, and then . . . “

“And then let them take over,” Mazikeen finished with a sigh as she pulled out her phone. “What’s the address? The place where we’re going,” she asked, opening her text messages as she followed Chloe out of the stairwell and to the elevator.

“Texting Lucifer?” Chloe asked as she glanced over at Mazikeen’s phone, her brow furrowing as she stared at the screen. “What language is that?”

“Aramaic,” Mazikeen replied. “After you were attacked at the precinct, Lucifer worried that someone could be monitoring our texts. Ever since then, he, Amenadiel, and I have all been texting in Aramaic. They could still read the texts, but they’d have to find someone to translate it. This is not the dialect of Aramaic that Google can handle.”

“I don’t know whether to be comforted or afraid,” she jested as the elevator doors opened into the parking garage Chloe stilled as she narrowed her eyes. “Maze,” she called out as she grasped the woman’s arm. “Tell me you know him.”

Mazikeen looked up as she tucked away her phone, her eyes narrowing as she stepped forward ahead of Chloe. “Uriel,” she greeted the angel. “Lucifer said you dropped by.”

“Uriel?” Chloe repeated with a frown. “Sammy’s Uriel?”

The man chuckled as he nodded, his dark eyes shining as he pushed back his thick dark hair. “Hello, Chloe,” he greeted her. “I’ll be watching out for you two today. Gabriel left for New Jersey last night. I don’t think he’ll be back for a few days.”

Chloe frowned as she studied the angel. “How could he just leave? What about Sammy?”

“He doesn’t know yet. He left before Sammy made it to you and Lucifer this morning. Chloe,” he nodded to her before turning his gaze on Mazikeen, “Maze. Things about to get bad. Watch out for her, Maze. In the coming days and weeks, she will need you and you will be the only one she can talk to.”

“Talk to about what?” Chloe demanded as Mazikeen stepped forward with a growl.

“You’ll know soon enough,” he said cryptically.

He was gone in the blink of an eye. Mazikeen growled as she shook her head. If there was one thing she hated about Uriel, it was the half-answers and riddles that the angel tended to use. She understood that he was the one to see patterns, to know what was coming before it happened, but damnit, she’d really appreciate it if he would just speak plainly.

“Here,” Chloe said, tossing her phone to Mazikeen as she unlocked her car with the remote. “You keep trying to get Bobby on the phone, and I’ll drive,” she instructed as she slipped behind the wheel, Mazikeen sliding into the passenger seat.

“Nothing,” Mazikeen said a few moments later, lowering the phone from her ear as Chloe pulled onto the highway. “That’s five times already, Chloe. Unless you’ve got another number,” she said with a sigh, tossing the phone onto the backseat only to smile and shake her head as Hunter caught the device in his teeth. “Take a look in your back seat,” she directed Chloe.

Chloe chuckled as she shook her head, reaching back to scratch the hellhound under his jaw when she slowed down for the highway exit. “Thanks, big guy,” she said wrinkling her nose as she caught the device in her hand and tossed it to Mazikeen. “You tossed it to him, you get to clean it off,” she said simply when the woman scoffed.

“I don’t like this area, Maze,” Chloe said a few moments later as she turned down a side street, the asphalt broken in some places and missing in others. “What the hell was Bobby doing down here without backup?”

“Aren’t you doing the same thing he was?” Mazikeen asked with an arch of her brow.

“It’s different,” Chloe denied her as she slowed to a stop. “I have you and Hunter to back me up. Bobby didn’t have anyone.”

Mazikeen watched Chloe check her service weapon before exiting the car, laughing when Chloe reached for the handle of the backdoor only to have Hunter already standing outside by the hood of the car. Shaking her head as she stepped out of the car and shut the door, Mazikeen narrowed her eyes. Something was off, she could feel it, and judging by Hunter’s constant low growling, he could feel it, too.

“I still can’t wrap my head around it,” Chloe said as she cast a glance at the woman walking next to her. Mazikeen frowned as she shook her head in question. “Half angel half human?”

Mazikeen chuckled. “Nephilim,” she corrected, frowning at the building they approached. “Are you sure this is the right place?”

“This was the address where Bobby’s GPS pinged. Whatever it is he came here to see, this is the last place his phone was active,” Chloe replied. “I don’t like that I can’t get in touch with him and that no one else has heard from him, either. There’s nothing at all that I could find in the reports I went through today that has any link to this address.”

“And that doesn’t seem strange to you?” she fired back, waiting for Chloe to face away from her before she pushed all of her senses to the limit, her demonic side showing in the process.

“Of course, it does,” Chloe said as she looked back at her only to a double take. “Put that away, will you? I don’t want to have to try to explain anything if the cameras around here pick that up.”

Mazikeen rolled her eyes as she pushed her demonic side back, her face returning to her normal human appearance. “You just mom-voiced me,” she told Chloe with a chuckle. “Anyone else would scream and soil themselves. You?” She scoffed. “You just tell me to put it away. With a _mom_ voice.”

“Oh, shut up.”

Mazikeen chuckled as she followed after the detective, glancing to the side at Hunter. “Go,” she commanded the beast, watching his eyes glow red before he took off to circle the building. “He’ll be back by your side before you know it,” she told Chloe when the detective looked at her.

“Patrolling the building?” Chloe asked, and nodded when Mazikeen did. “I don’t like this, Maze. You can feel it, right?”

“Oh yeah,” she agreed, her curved blades singing as she pulled them out from behind her back. “Stay close to me. I’m bulletproof, you’re not.”

“You’re bulletproof?” Chloe asked as she frowned at Mazikeen, the demon shrugging in response.

“The only thing that can hurt me is an angel, or these,” she said motioning with her knives. “Or him,” she nodded to the side, her brow furrowing as Hunter came barreling at them from the far side of the warehouse more than a hundred feet away.

He switched direction in an instant, his ears folded back against his head, his lips pulled back in a fierce snarl as he issued a warning bark. Mazikeen turned as her eyes widened, the sound of the cock being pulled back snapping like a whip in the air. She felt her breath catch in her throat, her eyes widening as time itself seemed to slow down. There was no angelic influence, no one there to intervene, her heart beating impossibly loudly in her ears. She opened her mouth to yell, watching as the man pulled the trigger, the light of the muzzle fire flashing in the darkness but she was too far away to do anything. She could hear the thunderous roar of Hunter’s furious snarl, the sound deadly and defiant as he launched himself at the shooter, but it was already too late.

Chloe was supposed to be right next to her, but they had gotten separated when the detective had stopped to look at something and she hadn’t even noticed, Mazikeen cursed herself. She couldn’t hear the desperate scream that tore from her as she called Chloe’s name, watching as the woman fell to the smooth concrete floor. In the seconds that followed, she could hear the man scream, the bullets he fired useless against the hellhound that bore down on him. The snap of bone and tearing of flesh faded into the background as Mazikeen fell to her knees, sliding up to Chloe’s side, searching for an injury but finding none.

“Chloe?” Mazikeen called out angrily, flinching back when the woman’s eyes snapped open. “Did he miss?” she demanded, pulling at Chloe’s shirt, her demonic countenance flashing to the fore when she found the tear in Chloe’s blouse, a perfect hole between the woman’s breasts.

“What?” Chloe gasped as she sat up, her eyes wide as she pulled at her shirt, her hands shaking as her breath came in short pants. “Why aren’t I dead?” she asked breathlessly as Hunter came up to her, sniffing her and nudging her with his nose as he whimpered low. “I’m okay, big guy,” she assured the beast, meeting Mazikeen’s gaze with wide eyes. “I’m okay,” she repeated with confusion.

“Chloe.” Mazikeen and Chloe turned at once to see Uriel standing a few feet away. “We need to talk.” He turned his eyes on Mazikeen, the demon staring at him with defiance. “Deal with that, while I explain things to Chloe,” he instructed her, nodding to the mangled remains of the man’s body, “and remember, you’re the only one Chloe will be able to talk to about this. Chloe,” he called to the detective as he jerked his head to the side. “Walk with me.”

 

**~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~**

 

She barely remembered the flight from the warehouse to where they stood now on the beach, the things he’d said repeating on a loop as they echoed in her mind. Chloe shook her head as she held Uriel’s gaze, her eyes narrowed beneath a furrowed brow. “I don’t . . . “ She pouted as she shook her head again in confusion. “The Reckoning?” she asked for an explanation, watching as a light entered his dark eyes, somewhere between pride and gratitude.

“The night you declared Lucifer to be yours and promised that you would stand in defense of him, guard him against anything that might come. The night you promised to protect his life, but more importantly, his heart,” he told her with a slow nod, his eyes sparkling.

Chloe’s eyes narrowed as her gaze fell from his, her eyes slipping to the side. The Reckoning? It didn’t make any sense to her. The only thing she could think of that he could be talking about had happened just after Lucifer had danced with Trixie, moments after he had carried her to bed and left her alone on the balcony. The words she had spoken in passion that she believed to have fallen on deaf ears . . . Was he talking about that, she wondered as her mind cast her back to that moment barely two nights ago.

_Chloe stood leaning against the open doorway of the hall as she watched Lucifer carry Trixie to bed, a tremulous smile curling her lips as she listened to him speak to her drowsy daughter. Bowing her head as she watched him turn the corner into Trixie’s room, Chloe felt tears prick at her eyes, and smiled as she took in an unsteady breath. Laughing softly as she nodded to herself, she felt honored by all he had done. She bit her lip as she looked up and smiled as she moved away from the doorway she’d been leaning against._

_Stepping in through the door of the bedroom she shared with him, she looked up at the open French doors, the night calling to her as the gossamer curtains danced on the breeze. The cool air greeted her as she stepped out onto the balcony, and she lifted her hands to rest on the clear glass railing that separated her from the devastatingly fatal drop below. Closing her eyes as she let the wind wash over her, Chloe breathed in deeply and sighed as she relaxed. She and her daughter had been living with Lucifer ever since her attack, and now, almost two months later, she couldn't imagine ever being without him again._

_“He is a good man,” she said as she looked out at the star filled sky. “He is a better father to her than her own father ever was. He may not mean anything to you,” she said as she looked toward the heavens. “But he means everything to me and to that little girl he’s with right now.”_

_Every night, she watched him tuck Trixie into bed. Not because she asked him to, or because her daughter asked him to, but because he had wanted to. When she, or her daughter woke with nightmares, he was there to soothe them both. Her lips curled in over her teeth as she kept her eyes closed, allowing her mind the freedom it desired. The first night of her attack when they had played twenty questions to keep her awake, and he had bared his deepest desire to her, she knew she had been lost._

_The barriers she had tried to keep in place to maintain an emotional distance between herself and Lucifer had come crashing down They had shared the same bed so many times before, but somehow that night had been different, the feel of his arms more than words could describe. He hadn't done anything more than simply hold her, but she had felt the change. She smiled as she bit her lip, and found she finally understood what that change had been. The fear she had held of letting him in, of giving into her desires, had vanished as though it had never been there to begin with._

_“I’m glad you cast him out,” she said as she stared at the stars. “Because in doing so, you gave him to me. Maybe you don’t love him now, maybe you never did, but I love him, and so does my daughter. I will fight for him, and so will she. He deserves so much better than you’ve ever given him, and maybe that’s your punishment for all that you’ve done. Because now you finally see that you’ve done nothing to deserve his love, and even though I know he’ll never say it out loud, I know he still loves you. He is a good man,” she said with a sniffle. “And he is mine to love. Should you ever try to take him away from us, I will find a way to come after you, and I will make you feel every moment of pain and rejection that he has ever felt because of you. I choose Lucifer, and so does my daughter.”_

_She closed her eyes as she felt a rush of warmth fill her, spiraling through her being, and took in a trembling breath as she sighed. She sniffled as a tear slipped down her cheek, the love and happiness she felt filling her to overflowing. Her eyes fell closed as the memories of the night played through her mind, the images of Lucifer dancing with her daughter making her heart burn with the love she felt. When she had stepped into LUX earlier that evening, and seen what he had done for her daughter, any doubts, or hesitations she may have once held fell away without pause. He hadn't mentioned any of what he had planned to her, and she found herself more deeply in love with him than ever before. She would give anything for him, for all he'd done just here tonight, for the way he'd made her daughter feel. If she lost him tomorrow, the memory of this night would carry her through for the rest of her life._

_“Beatrice is asleep,” Lucifer said, and Chloe gasped softly as he stepped up behind her._

“Yes,” Uriel said and Chloe blinked as the memory faded away, her eyes meeting his.

“Can you read minds?” she asked him, one brow arched in question.

“Not really,” he chuckled. “The Heavens shook that night,” he told her.

“It was a thunderstorm out over the valley,” she denied him, only to frown as he held her gaze steadily.

“It was you,” he countered, motioning for her to walk with him with a tilt of his head.

She followed beside him, her brows furrowed as she stared out in front of them, watching as the waves crashed against the shore. It didn’t make any sense to her, not really. She didn’t have the power to affect anything like that, not to the level he was insinuating. And the changes in her? The immortality that had protected her from the bullet . . . It was all more than a little frightening.

“The warmth I felt that night,” she began, only vaguely realizing that she speaking her thoughts out loud. “That wasn’t Lucifer? It wasn’t my love for him that I felt?”

“When you stood on the balcony?” he asked in return as he tucked his hands into his pockets, nodding a moment later. “The love you felt was true, it was yours, but that wind that circled around you,” he said, pausing as he turned his head to meet her gaze. “That was a blessing. You won’t get wings, you’re not turning into an angel or anything like that,” he said with a half-chuckle, his brow quirking as he looked up. “It’s a little different than that. You won’t be able to fly, or teleport or anything,” he teased her.

“So, no radioactive spider bite?” she teased in return, smiling when he laughed.

“No,” he barked a laugh as he shook his head. “No, Spiderman story for you,” he chuckled, taking in a deep breath as his amusement faded, his seriousness returning once more. “Things will change. From here on out, you won’t age – not a day. Your life is tied to his now. As long as he lives, you live, and if he dies, you . . . “

“I die,” Chloe finished, only to frown when he shook his head.

“You’ll be given a choice,” he said, coming to a stop as he looked up at the street vendors around them, and nodded to a cart selling mini donuts. “You should eat,” he told her. “You haven’t eaten since the morning after you . . . the morning after Lucifer danced with your daughter.”

“No, I – “ She fell silent as she frowned, the furrow between her brows deepening as her eyes lost focus. “I _haven’t_ eaten.”

“You won’t feel hunger as strongly,” he cautioned her, his tone reminding her of her Classical Philosophy instructor from freshman year at college, “but you still need to eat regularly. Lucifer tells me how easily you get distracted, focused, to the point that if he didn’t make it a point to bring you food, or make you take a break to help him cook, you’d never remember to eat on your own.”

“Geez,” Chloe grumbled as she handed over a few bills to the young man behind the cart, accepting the small paper bag of donuts and telling him to keep the change. “I’m not _that_ bad,” she said as she dug out a tiny powdered sugar covered morsel. “You said I’d get a choice,” she reminded him as they turned toward the street, walking toward the other side of the line of stalls lined up with things to be sold.

Uriel nodded as he lifted a hand, combing his fingers through his thick dark hair as he pushed it back. “If Lucifer were to die, you would be granted the choice of returning to your mortal life, beginning from where you left off and aging as a normal human would, or . . . “

“Or?” she prompted when he fell silent.

“Or going to Hell, where Lucifer would be, until such a time that he decided to leave again,” he said and Chloe stilled as she frowned up at him, her eyes impossibly wide. “No! Not,” he chuckled softly, “not to _be_ in Hell,” he said quickly as he shook his head. “To be _with_ Lucifer, to be by his side. To be his . . . Prin _cess_ of Darkness, if you will.”

“O-oh,” Chloe stumbled as she laughed, her hand pressed over her heart in relief, powdered sugar dusting her blouse. “Well that’s a relief, at least. But what about . . . what about Trixie?”

“The Devil’s Heart,” he said with a warm chuckle as he shook his head slowly in wonder.

“The what?” she asked as she stared up at him, meeting his gaze when he looked down at her.

“The Devil’s Heart,” he repeated with a smile. “Everyone always thought it would be some kind of symbol – a necklace or a ring or some other kind of bauble. No one ever could have guessed it would have been your daughter. She awakened his heart the first time she cried in his arms, the first time she put her trust in him. Every moment since then has been a deepening and strengthening of that bond. I guess, it would be more accurate to call her The Devil’s Daughter instead of his heart, but in this, at least, the two are the same.”

Chloe shook her head as she moved to sit on the low ledge of a stone wall, the structure only high enough to reach her waist. It dropped down much lower on the other side, the difference in height between this side of the beach and the other side making the wall appear almost twice as high from the other side.

“But what does that mean?” Chloe asked as she shook her head in confusion.

“It means that she, too, will have a choice,” Uriel said as he sat beside her. “On her eighteenth birthday, she will be granted a choice between immortality and a normal human existence.”

“And if she were to choose to remain human?” she asked as she looked down at her bag of donuts, shaking her head at the white sugar that had managed to decorate her chest, care of the donuts she ate and the wind that blew around them.

“You have to understand, Chloe,” Uriel said as he sat down next to her, nodding his thanks when she tilted the bag toward him, and took a donut. “You will never age again, not until the moment that Lucifer dies. And that’s only if you choose to return to a normal mortal existence.”

“I make him vulnerable,” she argued. “And considering how reckless he can be sometimes,” she said as the angel beside her chewed his donut, swallowing the treat as he nodded.

“You _used_ to make him vulnerable. Your immortality is his immortality, your strength is his strength, and the love he feels for you and Trixie, now that he’s accepting of it,” he said pointedly, his brows arched high on his forehead as he pinned her with a serious stare. “My brother – The Devil – has never been more powerful than in the moments when he is protecting the both of you. I have seen his light, and I have seen his rage, but when he stands in defense of the both of you, I see his power, his strength, his courage.”

“You didn’t answer my question,” she said softly.

Uriel nodded as he took in a deep breath, releasing a shuddering sigh. “She’ll be made to forget,” he answered slowly, holding up his hand when Chloe opened her mouth to argue. “An immortal mother, The Devil for a father, both of you never aging, never changing, while she remained mortal, while she grew older, grew weaker, became sick and frail. It would have the power to destroy her, Chloe. On her eighteenth birthday, if she chooses to remain mortal, she will begin her life, go to college begin a career and you will be granted ten more years with her before you will no longer be able to see her, before you and Lucifer fade into the shadows of her memory. There’s one more thing,” he said, the look in his eyes apologetic, worried.

“What?” Chloe ground out, only barely restraining herself from growling.

“You can never talk with her about this. You can’t influence her choice. She can never know that a choice will be offered until the moment that it _is_ offered. You can’t drop hints or convince her that a life of never aging is better than a life lived in the moment,” he said and Chloe shook her head as she stood up as she paced away from him, crossing her arms over her chest. “Chloe, it’s important that you understand this,” he said as he stood, moved to stand behind her. “If you try to influence her choice in any manner, you will take that choice away from her and she will live as mortal and you will lose her anyway.”

“How is _any_ of that fair?” she demanded as she spun to face him.

“It isn’t,” he replied. “But to everything there are rules and to everything there are consequences. From the simplest of things,” he told her as he shook his head, motioned to the waves crashing against the shore. “Walking barefoot on the beach brings pleasure and peace, but walk out too far, and the waves could sweep you away, or a jellyfish could sting you. Stay where it’s safe and you enjoy the view, the water, the sounds of the waves and the birds.”

“Drive too fast and miss a turn,” she said with a nod as she understood his meaning, what he was trying to convey.

“And you could lose your life,” he finished for her. “She’ll always be protected,” he assured her. “She just wouldn’t get to remember.”

“To gain one is to give up the other,” Chloe said helplessly as she shook her head, her palm cupped over her brow.

“Only if Trixie were to choose to remain mortal, and with all of these vampire movies gaining in popularity, what teenager would choose to remain mortal?” he teased, trying to lighten the mood, only for his efforts to fall flat.

“Can I tell her that I’m . . . “ her voice trailed off when he shook his head, his brow furrowed with regret as he denied her. “Lucifer?”

“He would break every rule just to keep her for you and that . . . “

“That would take away her choice,” Chloe finished with a heavy sigh. “I don’t know how to do this. This – This _huge thing_ and I can’t say _anything_ about it to the two people in the world who mean the most to me.”

“I’m sorry,” he apologized. “If there were an easier way . . . “

Chloe released a harsh breath, somewhere between a scoff and a sigh as she shook her head. “If it were easy, it wouldn’t be worth it,” she repeated the words her father had always told her whenever she struggled. “If I’m to be his guardian, I guess I’ll need to fight.”

“You already have your police training and Mazikeen is teaching you to fight as she does.”

“Maze!” Chloe exclaimed as she stared at him with wide eyes. “I’m –“

“You’re not,” he denied her. “You’re not displacing her. You’re complementing her. Lucifer has tasked Mazikeen with protecting you, and Mazikeen in turn, insisted that Amenadiel protect Trixie. You,” he nodded to her, “are there now to protect Lucifer – more than a bodyguard, more than protection detail. You, Chloe Decker, protect his heart. You always have. From the first death that ever touched him enough to leave a mark, to hurt him.”

“Frank,” she whispered the name of the priest. “Those two,” she recalled as she shook her head, her lips trembling as she smiled. “Everything was just . . . instant . . . between them, like they were two halves of a whole.”

“They understood each other,” Uriel told her as he nodded. “Game face, detective,” he cautioned her and Chloe looked up with a frown only to turn her head in the direction he was staring. “He’ll figure it out eventually on his own,” he told her as Lucifer walked toward them. “But you cannot offer the information.”

Chloe nodded, shaking her head when Uriel was gone with one great flap of his wings. She watched Lucifer narrow his eyes in silent question as he came closer to her and she shook her head in response. There was nothing she could tell him, no questions she could answer. He reached out to her, tilting her head up with a finger curled beneath her chin, his lips falling onto hers as he kissed her, the passion she felt from him igniting a fire inside her belly.

“Take me home, Lucifer,” Chloe said as she looked up to meet his eyes, a purr rolling in the back of her throat as she drew in air to speak, the brine of the ocean adding to the allure of the man in front of her. “I want to feel your wings.”

“Bloody hell.” His eyes flashed crimson as he snarled, dragging her close as his mouth crashed against hers. He jerked, growling into the kiss when she drew her nails down over his wing joints, the fabric of his suit jacket and the shirt beneath it dulling the effect. “If you keep that up, I’ll take you here and now,” he told her, groaning when she repeated the drag of her nails over his back, nipping at his neck beneath the curve of his jaw as he shuddered against her.

“Fly me home, Lucifer,” she begged of him, nipping him sharply at the spot just beneath the curve of his jaw and delighting in the roughened growl that spilled from him as he dragged her closer. His hands cupped her bottom as he lifted her up, her legs wrapping around his waist as she used the leverage to rub against him.

_“Bloody hell.”_

 

 

 

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A.N.: Hi everyone! Sorry it’s been so long since I’ve updated. I’ve been distracted by other things, and yes, I am back – I never truly left – but I am currently working on 5 stories, including this one. Updates may be sporadic, but I thank each and every one of you for sticking with me!

 


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